


If Found, Please Return

by LulaWrites



Series: K-POP hurt/comfort fic requests [5]
Category: ASTRO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: ASTRO love their maknae, Angst with a Happy Ending, BTS want to adopt another maknae, Binu if you squint, Cute, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jeon Jungkook Is a Sweetheart, JinJin is a mother hen, Jungkook is a good hyung, M/M, Park Jimin Is a Sweetheart, Protective Hyungs, Protective Jeon Jungkook, Sanha is a cute fanboy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bts love their maknae, cinnamon roll Yoon Sanha, mostly cute, taehyung is adorable, very mild angst though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaWrites/pseuds/LulaWrites
Summary: Yoon Sanha just wants a hot shower, a soft bed, and a night of uninterrupted sleep. Instead, he finds himself lost in a maze of a hotel in central LA with no phone, no hyungs, and a badly sprained ankle. Luckily for him, an unexpected knight in shining armour appears in the form of Jeon Jungkook; as far as first meetings go, it's not a complete disaster...minor injuries aside.(Or the one where Jungkook quite literally stumbles across an injured maknae after KCon LA and it inadvertently triggers his dormant hyung-instincts. Basically just tooth-rotting Astro/BTS fluff.)





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to read 'Little Boy Lost' in order to understand this story, as the two will overlap significantly. But if you'd care to see the events of this chapter from Jungkook's perspective, please feel free to check out the chapter in the link below. :)
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10510071/chapters/24163362

.

Sanha’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. The room’s too warm, and the couch is too _soft,_ and surely there’s no harm in taking a quick nap while they’re waiting, right? Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs…

“Yah.” Rocky’s elbow nudges him gently in the side. “Wake up. Manager-nim will be here soon.”

Blinking hard in an effort to banish the weight of fatigue from his drooping eyelids, Sanha sits up a little straighter on the plush couch.

“Wasn’t sleeping,” he insists, the words only _slightly_ slurred.

Rocky sniffs a grin, nudging him in the side again without glancing up from the game he’s playing on his phone. The dancer’s thumbs are moving across the screen so fast that Sanha’s brain hurts just _looking_ at him – how can the teen possibly still possess the coordination to do that after the day they’ve had?

After successfully completing a somewhat hectic LA KCon schedule these past forty-eight hours, he’s both physically and mentally _exhausted,_ and longing for the peace and quiet of his hotel room upstairs. But their manager had asked them to wait in the conference room on the ground floor of the hotel (a suite that _Fantagio_ had hired in advance so that the staff would have somewhere to set up base-camp away from the hustle and bustle of the KCon venue itself), presumably to discuss details of their schedule for tomorrow before they fly back to Korea in the evening. Which would’ve been okay (hyung-nim normally tries to keep post-event briefings fairly short so that they can rest) _,_ if not for the fact that their manger has since become unexpectedly detained elsewhere in the hotel.

Now Sanha’s left desperately fighting sleep, gradually slipping further and further down in his seat on one of the couches near the back of the conference room, longing to rub at his itching eyes but reluctant to smudge his makeup with some of the stylist noonas sitting nearby (even though he’ll be taking it off as soon as he reaches his hotel room, it just seems rude to ruin all their hard work right in front of them).

A hand suddenly settles on the back of his neck, and Sanha sucks in a startled breath, opening his eyes quickly (not that he can remember having closed them).

“I think it’s past someone’s bedtime,” Jinwoo remarks with quiet amusement, perching on the arm of the couch beside him and squeezing the teen’s nape as Sanha blinks up at the rapper blearily. “You look about ready to pass out, kiddo.”

Sanha lists sideways with a tired groan to lean against his hyung. “Manager-nim said he’d only be five minutes. Where _is_ he?”

“Busy making arrangements for tomorrow,” JinJin tells him patiently. “I heard a rumour that we might be allowed to play tourists for a little while before we leave for the airport.”

The teenager perks up at that. He’s never been to America before, and the prospect of getting to see a little more of LA before they head home excites him (as much as anything can when he feels half-dead).

“Really?”

“Mm.” Jinwoo nods, and reaches up to ruffle Sanha’s curls. “And if you want to go exploring tomorrow, you’ll need a decent night’s sleep. Seriously, Sanha, I’m tired just _looking_ at you. Go to bed already.”

“But…but manager-nim told us to-”

“I know.” Astro’s leader smiles a little, holding up a silencing hand. “I’ll explain things to hyung when he gets back. Don’t worry, you won’t get into trouble."

A thin, black key-card is pressed into Sanha’s palm.

“Head on up to our room,” Jinwoo murmurs. “I’ll come join you as soon as hyung’s finished briefing us. Remember to wash your face, okay? You know how sensitive your skin gets.”

Sanha would roll his eyes at the familiar fussing, but he’s honestly too tired to expend the necessary energy (that, and in truth, he doesn’t really mind being babied by the others). So instead he just nods, bidding the two rappers either side of him a sleepy goodnight and waving to Binnie and Eunwoo who are curled up together in an armchair a short distance away. MJ’s filming a self-cam for a new DDOCA over in the far corner, so he decides not to interrupt the singer mid-flow (he’ll see the man soon enough anyway, since both Jinwoo and MJ are sharing a room with him) and instead ducks out of the conference room before the leader changes his mind and decides he needs to stay up and wait for their manager. He’s not about to pass up on the opportunity to crawl into bed a little earlier than planned, not when he’s already asleep on his feet.

Despite his fatigue, he chooses to forego the elevator in favour of taking the stairs. It’s not that he doesn’t trust American technology, but he’s never been a big fan of elevators anyway (too many late-night horror film marathons with Rocky during their trainee days), especially if he’s riding on his own. He doesn’t feel quite so _trapped_ on a staircase, so even if it’ll make his tired legs ache even more, it’ll be worth it in the long run.

It’s not like their rooms are on the fifteenth floor or anything like that. He only has to go up to the third floor…or maybe the fourth? One or the other, anyway. No problem.

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

He’s not lost. Nope. He’s just…taking a more scenic route.

Seriously, though, who the hell thought that designing all the corridors in this hotel to look almost _exactly the same_ was a good idea? It feels like he’s been wandering around for _hours_ now, and he still can’t find his hotel room. Sanha knows there’s a painting of a city landscape on the wall opposite the door to their suite, but it hasn’t turned up yet – hell, he isn’t even sure he’s looking on the right _level._ He’s currently on the fifth floor (his extensive search of the fourth and third floors had been unsuccessful), but he’s so _tired_ that there’s a good chance he’s already walked past the damn painting twice without realising it.

“Stupid,” he mutters vehemently, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the carpet in frustration.

Sanha’s so exhausted that it’s tempting just to stretch out along the floor and go to sleep right here and now. He can’t keep going much longer. And although it’s gonna be _super_ humiliating to go back downstairs and admit to the others that he can’t find his room (aish, Binnie and Rocky are gonna tease him about it _forever),_ that seems to be his best option at the moment. If he keeps searching for much longer, manager-nim will have already finished talking to the others and then Jinwoo will come upstairs to find their suite _unoccupied,_ and he doesn’t even want to think about what kind of hell will break loose if that happens.

 _Aigoo._ Jinwoo won’t let him go anywhere on his own again, _ever._

Sanha’s so caught up in imagining the look of panic on JinJin and MJ’s faces that he fails to notice that his shoelaces have come undone until it’s too late. He turns a corner in the corridor and suddenly lurches forwards as one of the laces gets caught beneath the opposite shoe. He takes an awkward, stumbling step to compensate and keep from overbalancing, but his ankle turns beneath the weight of him and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

Pain lances through the joint as Sanha crumples to the floor with a surprised yelp, catching himself on his arms (thankfully before he manages to concuss himself against the wall on top of everything else) and remaining there motionless for a moment, the shock of the injury having woken him fully from his previous state of mobile slumber.

“Oww,” he whines as the fierceness of the pain finally registers, rolling over slowly to sit up against the wall of the corridor and reaching down to clutch at his throbbing ankle. “Aish, really?”

Apparently this hotel _hates_ him.

The pain abates after a few moments, so he braces his weight on his good foot and uses the wall to pull himself up, rotating his injured ankle a couple of times before tentatively taking a step forward. The joint buckles immediately with a sharper _twang_ of pain that has him biting back a stream of curses, and he slumps back against the wall and slides down to sit on the floor again.

Jaenjang, it hurts. Like, really _really_ hurts.

Hot, frustrated tears blur his vision, and he presses the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to keep them at bay. He’s just so _tired,_ and all he wants to do is curl up in a nice, soft bed and sleep for a week, but _no,_ instead he’s lost in this stupid hotel in a foreign country in the middle of the night with _no_ way to contact his hyungs and a _stupid sprained ankle._

It’s not _fair._

The teenager’s so thoroughly preoccupied with feeling extremely sorry for himself that he doesn’t hear footsteps approaching along the corridor until a tall figure suddenly appears from around the corner. A boot collides (with some significant force) against Sanha’s knee where his legs are stretched out in front of him, and he startles with a pained yelp.

“Aigoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” his attacker hurries to say, and Sanha’s heart shoots up into his throat because _dear God above,_ he knows that voice.

Glancing up sharply from his throbbing knee, the teenager’s eyes widen significantly when he sees Jeon Jungkook of BTS peering back at him in guilt and concern.

Even if they hadn’t danced onstage together earlier today, Sanha would’ve recognised the other singer immediately. _Everyone_ in the industry knows BTS, rookie idols most of all – the sunbae group had gained popularity at an accelerated rate these past few years, and they’re the sort of well-oiled machine that every newly-debuted group aspire to be _._ Not to mention _Astro_ had covered half a dozen of their dance performances during their promo tour, and before that, even, when they’d still been doing _iTeen_ trainee stages at various public events.

Suddenly Jungkook’s crouching down beside him, bringing their gazes more to a level, and the older singer settles a gentle hand on the younger makane’s shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets softly. “It’s Sanha, right?”

The teenager nods dumbly, trying not to make it too obvious just how much he’s _freaking out_ internally. He can’t pull off the cool-and-calm vibe the same way that Rocky can, but he doesn’t want to look like a total weirdo either.

Training aside, Sanha himself has been a big fan of BTS for _years_ now (not as big a fan as Binnie, perhaps, but that would be difficult given how religiously the dancer follows their broadcasts). Astro and BTS have even met on a few occasions backstage these past couple of days, very briefly in between their various stage shows and fansign events, but there hadn’t been time to exchange much beyond a polite _“pleased to meet you”_ and _“let’s all do our best”_. To find himself now essentially nose-to-nose with one of his role models (and without his hyungs there to provide moral support) leaves Sanha feeling more than a little starstruck.

And _holy ramen soup,_ he’s gone and sent the man flying straight off the bat. _Stupid Sanha_.

“J-Jungkook sunbae-nim,” he stutters, his heart fluttering far too rapidly in his chest as he hurries to apologise. “Oh my god, I’m _so_ sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to trip you, I swear, it was an accident-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook reassures, and smiles nervously in a way that makes Sanha relax a little – it seems he’s not the only one who feels out-of-depth when it comes to meeting fellow idols. “And besides, I’m really the one who should be apologising for kicking you like that. Aigoo, did I hurt you?”

Sanha tries to reassure the older singer that he’s _fine,_ but Jungkook seems to buy that about as much as JinJin and Eunwoo tend to – that is to say, not at all.

Gently prying the teenager’s hands out of the way, the older maknae inspects Sanha’s knee with a critical eye, wincing at the redness already swelling there. It’ll probably be a lovely shade of blue by tomorrow (he seriously bruises like a peach), and he’ll have to avoid wearing shorts until it’s faded, which won’t go down well with the stylist noonas at all. But Jungkook is already looking guilty, his brow creasing in an uncertain frown, and Sanha hates to see that look on anyone’s face. And especially since _he_ was the one to trip the older singer in the first place.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” he tries to insist. “And anyway, it was my fault for being in your way, sunbae-nim.”

Unfortunately, that happens to be the exact moment Jungkook chooses to probe the swelling with his fingertips. Sanha can’t help flinching at the sharp ache that flares up in response to the pressure.

“Sorry,” Jungkook murmurs, patting just above his knee as he smiles in apology. “And call me ‘hyung’, okay?”

Sanha blinks at him, startled by the offer so soon after becoming acquainted, feeling a surge of hope in his chest. “Really?”

“Mm.” The older maknae nods with a more genuine smile, and something in Sanha’s stomach flutters. “Now, about your knee – do you think you can stand on it?”

The teenager glances down at his injured leg, and feels his ankle give a warning twinge as though punishing him for daring to even _think_ about putting weight on it. He shakes his head with a forlorn sigh.

“I…I don’t think so, hyung.”

“Really?” Jungkook’s expression freezes, something like panic flickering across his features before he schools it quickly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Sanha pouts down at the offending joint. “I think I sprained my ankle.”

 “But…I kicked you in the knee, right?” Jungkook ascertains, sounding faintly confused.

“Hm?” the younger maknae blinks at the hyung blankly for half a beat, then feels his cheeks heat as he realises that he must be making, like, _zero_ sense to the sunbae idol. “Oh, sorry, um…I meant from before. I…I was trying to find my way back to our room, but I kinda tripped over my shoelaces.”

“Ah.” The corner of Jungkook’s lips twitch up, just a little, but he doesn’t outright laugh at Sanha’s misfortune, which the youth greatly appreciates (his pride is already in tatters tonight). “I guess that explains why you’re sitting in the middle of the corridor at one o’clock in the morning, huh?”

“Eh?” Panic lances through Sanha’s chest like a piercing icicle, and he feels his eyes widen in alarm. “Is it that late already? Oh my god, oh my _god,_ MJ-hyung is going to _kill_ me…”

A strong arm circles around his shoulders, and Sanha finds himself being hugged by none other than _Jeon Jungkook_ of BTS. His initial reaction (purely shock-induced) is to blush beetroot-red and tense up, but it takes less than a split second for him to relax again into the sideways embrace. Sanha likes skinship, and Sanha likes Jungkook, and as it turns out the sunbae idol gives _really_ nice hugs.

“If you explain what happened, I’m sure they’ll understand,” the man reasons confidently. “We all have accidents; it isn’t your fault you got hurt.”

Sanha smiles shyly, cheeks still pulsing with heat (it’s a good thing he didn’t take off his makeup earlier, hopefully he doesn’t look _too_ red), and Jungkook returns it before pushing himself to his feet.

“If I help you up, do you think you’ll be able to stand?” he asks, reaching down to offer Sanha a hand. The teenager nods, grasping the man’s palm. “Awesome. On three, okay?”

By some miracle, Sanha manages to heave himself upright without injuring himself (or Jungkook) in the process. He stands on his good foot, wincing as he slowly rotates his aching ankle.

“Don’t,” Jungkook cautions when he notices the movement, pulling one of Sanha’s arms across his shoulders to help balance out his weight. “Don’t try to move it too much. You’ll need to ice it first or the swelling won’t go down. How far is it to your room?”

Sanha fidgets awkwardly and averts his gaze. “Um…I don’t actually know. I’m sort of lost?”

When he glances up after a brief moment of silence and sees Jungkook’s expression of poorly-veiled incredulity, Sanha does what he should never, ever do and lets his emotions take control of his mouth.

Before his brain has a chance to process the humiliating story that’s tumbling from his lips at lightning speed, he’s gone and told Jungkook _everything,_ from being too tired to wait for their manager to being too scared to use the elevator on his own _(oh god, just kill me now),_ to forgetting which floor his room was supposed to be on and then wandering around for ages hoping that he might just stumble across the right door and then tripping over his _stupid_ shoelaces and-

Mortified, he physically clamps a hand over his mouth to put a stop to the frustrated tirade, flushing so hot it’s a miracle his head doesn’t burst into flames, staring up at Jungkook wide-eyed.

“Aish. Sounds like you’ve had a rough night,” Jungkook sympathises, and although there’s a hint of amusement in his smile, the expression overall is a kind one. “Hey, tell you what – my room’s just at the end of the next corridor, it’s not far. You should come and hang out with me and the guys for a little while until we work out where you’re supposed to be. Okay?”

_Holy. Freaking. Ramen._

Clamping down on his immediate instinct to _screech in excitement_ (his usual go-to reaction for any situation that registers above ‘mildly interesting’), Sanha manages to restrain himself to an eager nod and a wide, beaming smile.

“Okay, hyung.”

 

Binnie is gonna be _soooo_ jealous when he finds out.

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have SO MUCH FLUFF planned for this story, you have no idea. Tae and Jimin are gonna love Astro's maknae, obviously, and Jungkook is going to be an awesome hyung. Bonus Jin being a fussy parent.
> 
> And then there's Sanha's Astro hyungs - Jinwoo, being the mother hen that we all know he is, will understandably flip the FUCK out when he finds his youngest dongsaeng missing. And he'll just about internally combust when he gets to meet Namjoon properly for the first time. ;P
> 
> Let me know your thoughts! As always, thanks for reading. Aroha/Army fighting! :)


	2. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanha has no idea how to contact his group, but at least he's in safe hands. / Jimin and Taehyung appreciate having another maknae to coddle. / Jungkook finds he's well-suited to his new role as hyung.
> 
> (So. Much. Fluff.)

.

 

Sanha has barely crossed the threshold of the hotel suite before Park Jimin himself ( _holy crap, this seriously can’t be real)_ is shooting up from one of the double beds on the opposite side of the room, eyes blown wide in surprise and concern.

“Aigoo!” the dancer exclaims. “What happened?”

Sanha startles at the man’s worried tone, his heart fluttering at the base of his throat, and after a moment of stunned inertia he dips forward in a clumsy little bow (the best he can manage standing on one leg).

“Hello, sunbae-nim,” he mumbles, hoping he doesn’t look as flushed as he feels. “I…I’m really sorry for the intrusion.”

“You’re fine,” Jungkook reassures him softly, hitching Sanha’s arm a little further across his shoulders to better support the teenager’s weight. Then he turns his attention back towards his hyung, wincing a little at the expectant look Jimin sends him in return. “I’ll explain everything in a minute, hyung, I promise. But we really need to elevate his foot before the swelling gets any worse.”

Apparently deciding to postpone the interrogation for now, Jimin moves to slip underneath Sanha’s free arm, helping to support the maknae from the opposite side, and together they steer him over to the nearest double bed. Sanha can feel his cheeks burning a little from all the attention, and from being essentially sandwiched between two of his favourite sunbae idols (in all fairness, his list of ‘favourites’ is pretty extensive, but _still),_ and he keeps his gaze lowered out of embarrassment as they help to settle him on the mattress. He’s still wearing his shoes after all, and now said shoes are touching the nice clean bedsheets, and that just seems really _rude_ of him.

“Tae!” Jimin calls over his shoulder. “Get dressed, we’ve got company!”

The low background hiss (that Sanha previously hadn’t paid much attention to, but now realises must be the sound of the shower running in the en-suite bathroom) cuts off abruptly, and there’s a series of muffled sort of thumping sounds before a door on the other side of the room cracks open and a damp head pokes out.

“Company?”

Sanha dips his head towards him in another little bow, and gives a shy wave. “Hello.”

“Ooh, hi!” Taehyung grins back at him brightly, looking every bit as handsome as he had backstage at the KCon venue, even without the heavy makeup and styled hair he’d been sporting earlier. “It’s Sanha, right? I’d come over to greet you properly, but I’m not wearing any pants. Sorry. Gimme a sec and I’ll be right out, okay?”

The door shuts again, and Sanha finds himself needing to take a deep breath (why does he feel like he’s had the wind knocked out of him after that brief exchange?) his gaze flickering towards Jimin when he hears the other idol huff a quiet laugh.

“And that’s Tae when he’s _not_ hyper,” the dancer tells him fondly. “He’s always been like that. We’ve tried looking for a cure, but I’m afraid it’s terminal.”

“Yah!” comes the muffled protest through the bathroom door.

Jimin laughs again, a little louder this time, dropping down to sit on the edge of the bed next to Sanha’s feet and reaching out to start untying his shoelaces. The smile quickly drops from his face, however, when he sees the impressive swelling that’s already formed around Sanha’s aching ankle, making the material of his Converses cinch tight against his skin.

“Aish,” Jimin breathes, and sends the youth a sympathetic sort of wince as he removes the shoe from Sanha’s uninjured foot first. “That looks pretty bad, kiddo. Did you fall down the stairs or something?”

The teenager shakes his head a little. “I just tripped over my shoelace, that’s all. I…I’m kinda clumsy sometimes.”

Jimin’s gaze flickers over to Jungkook (who’s moved to sit on the bed behind Sanha, the maknae’s hand resting on the teen’s lower back) and a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

“Really?” Sanha glances over his shoulder towards the older maknae, curious. “Hyung, are y- ahh!”

“Ai! Sorry, I’m sorry!” Jimin hurries to apologise, lifting his hands away from Sanha’s throbbing ankle as the teenager jerks his leg back instinctively. “That was hyung’s fault, I should’ve given you a heads-up first.” The dancer gently guides his foot back towards him, his worried gaze still focused on Sanha. “Are you alright? I’m sorry I startled you. I’ll be careful this time, I promise.”

Biting his lip in an effort not to show the sunbae idol just how much it hurts (because seriously, it hurts _a lot,_ but he’s not gonna be a baby about it in front of BTS), Sanha subconsciously leans back a little against Jungkook as the older maknae loops an arm around him from behind in a silent show of support.

Working the shoe off his swollen foot is _excruciating_ (aish, why did the stylists insist on him wearing Converses during their summer comeback, they’re seriously inconvenient at a time like this), and Sanha wishes he could say that he’s able to endure the experience stoically, but an assortment of muffled, pained noises manage to escape his throat despite his best efforts to remain silent. It seems to take _forever,_ and Sanha’s pretty sure there must be actual beads of perspiration on his brow by the time the shoe finally slips free and drops to the floor.

“Done, I’m done,” Jimin is quick to reassure, looking every bit as relieved as Sanha feels. “Are you okay?”

“Kinda,” the teenager croaks, chest heaving like he’s just run a marathon as he slumps back against the pillar of muscled maknae behind him. “That…that really hurt.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Jimin sympathises, patting his leg gently. “You did good, kid.”

Jungkook’s arm tightens a little around him in a reassuring sort of squeeze that does actually go a long way towards making Sanha feel better. Skinship tends to have that effect on him; probably one of the reasons why the rest of his group are so _clingy_ sometimes – not that he minds. He always gets super nervous in the days leading up to a big performance or an official fan event of some kind, and during these periods he’s noticed that his hyungs tend to hover a little closer to him than normal, draping an arm casually over his shoulders whenever one of them sits beside him or randomly giving him backhugs if they’re standing around talking to one another. Eunwoo and JinJin tend to be the main culprits (which is totally fine, because they happen to give the _best_ hugs), but the rest of the group all compete fairly evenly for second place – even Rocky, who will adamantly deny any interest in skinship in front of a camera but happily drapes himself all over Sanha’s whenever they’re watching TV or YouTube together.

“Holy _fuck!”_ Taehyung exclaims, appearing at the foot of the bed beside Jimin so suddenly that it makes Sanha jump a little. “The hell happened to your ankle, kid?”

Jimin doesn’t so much as blink at the younger man’s sudden appearance, but he does lift a hand to thump Taehyung firmly on the arm.

“Language,” the dancer chides. “Sanha’s only…” Jimin frowns a little, then glances up towards the youngster. “I’m sorry, how old are you?”

“Um, sixteen,” Sanha answers hesitantly, and then at Taehyung’s immediate wince he hurries to add, “but it’s fine, honest! I hear my hyungs swear all the time.”

“Seriously?” Taehyung perches on the edge of the bed, his expression mildly incredulous. “Astro actually _swear?_ But you’re all so fu-... _freaking_ cute.”

Sanha smiles a little, genuinely pleased at the man’s compliment. Carrying that label might be the bane of Binnie-hyung’s life and grate on Rocky’s nerves, but Sanha _loves_ being called cute. There aren’t a lot of things in life that he feels super confident about (aside from singing), but aegyo happens to be one of them. And it’s something he enjoys doing, too – if only to make MJ, Eunwoo and JinJin smile, or to annoy Binnie and Rocky to the point where they both threaten to whack him. Having said that, Bin and Minhyuk are growing more comfortable with the whole ‘cute’ concept with each passing month – Sanha can still tell they’re cringing internally whenever an interviewer asks them to do aegyo, but they’re much better at hiding it now.

“Speaking of your hyungs,” Jimin remarks distractedly, busy propping up Sanha’s foot on a pillow in in his lap to elevate it. “Where’s the rest of your group? Do they know you’re hurt?”

The teenager shakes his head, feeling his cheeks flush again as he ducks his gaze. Jungkook’s arm tightens around his midriff ever so slightly in reassurance.

“Sanha kinda got lost on his way back to his room,” the older maknae explains, clearly taking pity on him (Sanha might just _die_ of embarrassment, seriously). “And he hasn’t got his phone with him. I said we’d be able to find a way to contact his group.”

“Only if it’s not too much trouble,” Sanha adds quickly.

Jimin’s smile softens, and he pats the teen’s uninjured leg. “Of course it isn’t. Joonie-hyung’s got a lot of friends, I’m sure he’ll be able to get in touch with someone who knows how to contact your group.”

The maknae feels himself relax a little at the man’s easy reassurance. He knows his eldest three hyungs in particular have a number of friends within the industry (a lot of them fellow rookies like themselves, but Eunwoo’s work as both MC and actor has given him the opportunity to mingle with sunbae idols too), so there’s bound to be _someone_ who’s known to both BTS and Astro.

Taehyung suddenly makes a sharp hiss between his teeth, wincing as he leans down to study Sanha’s knee more closely.

“That looks painful,” he sympathises. “You’re gonna have one helluva bruise there tomorrow, kid.”

Jimin glances up from where he’s been carefully removing Sanha’s sock, concern creasing his brow as he catches sight of the large red mark swelling on the side of the teen’s leg.

“Don’t tell me your knee’s hurt too?” The dancer heaves a quiet sort of sigh that seems both fond and exasperated, a pleasant sort of warmth fluttering in Sanha’s chest at the sound of it, the feeling only intensifying at the gentle smile that curls at Jimin’s mouth when their eyes meet a moment later. “Aigoo, you’re worse than Kookie – how on earth do your hyungs let you out of their sight?”

“I suppose you’re kinda easy to spot from far-away, though,” Taehyung muses, gaze flitting up and down the length of Sanha’s body. “Talk about giant maknae. The hell do they _feed_ you kids these days?”

“Um,” Sanha answers dumbly.

Jimin pats his good leg reassuringly. “You don’t have to answer that. Tae has a habit of thinking out loud.” Ignoring Taehyung’s indignant noise of protest, the dancer continues, “You didn’t hit your head or anything when you fell, did you?”

Sanha shakes his head with a flicker of a smile – it’s strange, but Jimin reminds him of Rocky in a lot of ways. Outwardly calm and composed, with an aura of quiet confidence that puts him at ease, but with a deep sense of care and affection for those around him hidden just beneath the surface.

As a dancer, Minhyuk’s had a lot of experience with sprains and strains and bumps and grazes from all his years of training, so inevitably it’s him who ends up steering Sanha over to the side of the studio at the first sign of a wince, tending to his injuries with gentle hands and wielding strapping tape like a professional after the countless times he’s had to use it on himself in the past. The older teenager’s even got a stash of assorted chemical gel-packs at the dorm, both hot and cold, that he’ll unceremoniously slap onto any part of Sanha’s body that happens to be aching (often without any warning) before the maknae’s actually voiced any complaints about his overtired muscles. Rocky just seems to _know_ these things, like the freaky mind-reader he is.

“And what happened to your knee, bud?” Jimin pursues. “Did you knock it against something when you tripped?”

“Uh…not really,” Sanha answers, being deliberately vague, feeling Jungkook shift a little behind him. “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry about it.”

Unfortunately, his dismissive not-answer seems to draw the man’s attention rather than avoid it, and Sanha feels his cheeks flush hot again under the dual stares of both Taehyung and Jimin, whose expectant gazes feel just as weighty as JinJin’s. He can feel his pulse picking up as his stomach gives a nervous flutter, and he wracks his brain for some sort of feasible excuse that won’t result in him flat-out lying to his sunbaes. Sanha’s never been a fan of lying, or even the _concept_ of lying (how could you ever come to trust someone who’d once deliberately kept the truth from you?), so it isn’t something he tends to make a habit out of.

Oh God, how long has it been quiet for? This is literally the definition of an awkward silence, right? Sanha _hates_ those. Living in an apartment with five noisy, boisterous hyungs (and growing up in a family with older brothers before that), silence in the presence of others just isn’t something he’s used to at all.

Is it his fault? Has he made it awkward by not answering? Oh no, oh God, he’s really fucking this up-

“I kicked him,” Jungkook suddenly blurts, and the two older singers both glance up towards their maknae in surprise. The younger man hastens to add, “By accident. I turned the corner back there in the corridor and there wasn’t time to avoid his legs.”

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes heavenwards. “Aish. Jeon Jungkook, you’re a walking _disaster._ ”

“Want me to beat him up for you, Sanha-yah?” Taehyung offers casually, jerking a thumb in Jungkook’s direction.

“Hyuuung,” the golden maknae protests, faintly exasperated.

Sanha can’t quite suppress the giggle that bubbles up from the warmth swelling in his chest, and quickly claps a hand over his mouth to smother the sound, not wanting to offend Jungkook by openly laughing at him. He can’t help the reaction, though – seeing the two older sunbaes tease their maknae so playfully reminds Sanha of the relationship he shares with his own hyungs.

Thinking of his group suddenly highlights fact that he’s here and they’re _not,_ and that none of them will have any idea _where_ he is, and _oh god oh god_ Jinwoo’s going to _freak the heck out_ when he finds their hotel room empty. There’s a chance he’s out there right this minute, frantically searching the corridors for any sign of him. Aigoo, this was such a bad idea, why hadn’t he just declined Jungkook’s invitation and hobbled his way back downstairs to the conference room?

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits him, and Sanha remembers _exactly_ why trekking back down to the ground floor hadn’t been an option. He’s slept a grand total of four and a half hours over the course of the past two days, and on top of all that he still feels jetlagged as heck, so it’s little wonder his brain’s ready to do an emergency shutdown on him. He’s so tired he could just _cry._

Blinking hard to keep his itchy eyelids from drooping, and hiding a jaw-creaking yawn behind his hand, Sanha tries valiantly to refocus his attention on the other three idols, startling a little when he finds himself being watched closely by both Jimin and Taehyung.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, cheeks flushing hot again. “Did I miss something?”

Taehyung makes a quiet, strangled noise at the back of his throat, clutching a hand to his chest, and the teen wonders if the man’s somehow managed to hurt himself during the minute or so Sanha spent lost in his own thoughts.

But Jimin doesn’t seem overly concerned by his companion’s behaviour – on the contrary, his quiet smile curls a little wider, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners in a way that makes Sanha’s heart do that pleasant fluttery thing all over again.

“You look tired,” the dancer murmurs, thumb stroking with a feather-light touch over his swollen ankle. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a little while?”

Sanha shakes his head, but Jungkook’s already shifting further up the bed to sit against the headboard, drawing the teenager back with ease (aigoo, the man’s strong) to recline a little against his chest.

“I can’t,” he tries to protest, even as he feels his fatigue-heavy limbs relax into Jungkook’s comfortable hold. “My hyungs must be worried sick by now, I shouldn’t just be sitting here while they look for me. I should be doing something to help.”

“You’re hurt,” Jungkook reminds him, arm looping snugly around his chest in a way that makes the hold feel like a _proper_ cuddle. “You’re in no fit state to do anything right now. Just rest; we’ll take care of everything else.”

As is usually the case, Sanha calms significantly at the gentle hug (not as cosy as Eunwoo’s cuddles, but definitely an acceptable compromise), even though there’s a niggling sort of guilt still twisting in his stomach.

“But hyung-”

Jimin holds up a hand to still his plaintive argument. “Kookie’s right, kiddo; you need to take it easy. Let hyungs handle this, okay?” At Sanha’s reluctant nod, he smiles and turns his attention to Taehyung. “Go see if Hobi-hyung’s still awake, would you? He’s better at assessing sprains than I am. Suga and RapMon are probably still with Jin-hyung, so you might as well tell all three of them what’s happened and– oh! Do you think hyung still carries those gel-packs in his suitcase? The sooner we start icing Sanha’s ankle, the better.”

Taehyung stands, nodding in agreement, and reaches out to ruffle Sanha’s hair with a cheery grin. “Don’t worry, Sanha-yah; if we can’t find your group, you can always just become an honorary member of BTS.”

“Tae,” Jimin chides laughingly, aiming a half-hearted swat at him (which Taehyung easily dodges). “Hurry up and _go_ already.”

The singer gives a sloppy salute, blows them a kiss, and departs with all due ceremony. Sanha might be just a _little_ bit in love with him. He might be just a little bit in love with _all_ of them, god dammit.

It’s just the jetlag talking, obviously.

“Yah,” Jungkook murmurs close to his ear, giving him another gentle squeeze. “Stop fighting it and go to sleep, kid. Jiminie-hyung and I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

Aigoo. He just _knows_ he’s going to regret this later on. When Binnie and Rocky corner him and demand a blow-by-blow account of everything that happened when Jeon Jungkook himself invited Sanha back to his hotel room, it’s going to be a pitifully short tale of how he acted like a crybaby because his ankle hurt and then promptly fell asleep because Jungkook’s hug was too cosy.

His hyungs are never going to let him live this down.

But aish, he’s _exhausted._ And sleep sounds so freaking good right now. Just a quick nap won’t hurt, right? Five minutes, that’s all he needs…

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being longer than I intended it to be, so the panicking!Jinwoo/worried!Astro section will feature at the start of the next chapter instead. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! As always, I'd love to know your thoughts. <3


	3. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoseok comes to help babysit. Meanwhile, Sanha's hyungs finally realise they've misplaced something important. (JinJin takes this revelation about as well as can be expected.)

.

Astro’s startlingly tall maknae is stretched out across one of the double beds, reclining against Jungkook’s chest with the older boy’s arms wrapped securely around him, fast asleep. His sandy-blond curls are tussled, the faint yellow glow of the nearby bedside lamp casting him in a golden light that softens his features to something unmistakably infantile.

Hoseok surveys the adorable sight from a few feet away, and tilts his head a little to one side with a warm smile. He’s never wanted to squish someone’s cheeks so much in his _life._ Or at least not since he first met Kim Taehyung.

“Aigoo, he’s cute.”

J-Hope then raises his hands in an immediate nonverbal apology when both Jungkook and Jimin throw identical frowns in his direction, shushing him urgently.

“Don’t wake him,” Jimin whispers, carefully shifting in his cross-legged position at the end of the bed, Sanha’s foot cradled on a cushion in his lap. “He’s only been asleep for a few minutes. Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

“Getting dressed,” Hoseok answers, careful this time to keep his voice hushed as he moves closer to the trio. “He was in the shower when Tae came by, but he’ll be out in a minute. Here, let me take a look at his ankle.”

The joint is clearly swollen (he doesn’t even have to compare it to the kid’s uninjured leg, it looks that bad), and although the skin’s hot to touch there’s no obvious discoloration, and the circulation to his foot seems unaffected – the maknae’s toes are warm, and Hoseok can feel both pulses.

“Tae’s gonna ask Jin-hyung for an icepack,” Jimin tells him. “I figured the sooner we get his ankle iced, the better.”

Hoseok nods, moving to perch on the edge of the bed. “Good call. Hopefully it’s just a bad sprain, but there’ll be no way of telling for sure until the swelling’s gone down, unless he gets it x-rayed.” The dancer regards the sleeping teenager in silence for a moment, then glances towards his own maknae. “How did you find the kid in the first place?”

Jungkook shrugs ever so slightly. “I…kinda just bumped into him.”

“Figuratively speaking, or…?”

“Literally. I tripped over his legs.”

Hoseok fights a smile even as he rolls his eyes. “Jeon Jungkook, you’re a walking _hazard._ ”

“In Jungkook’s defence,” Jimin pipes up quietly, “the kid’s ankle isn’t his fault. Sanha tripped over his shoelaces.”

“Aww,” Hoseok sympathises, the coo slipping out before his brain even has chance to register what his throat’s doing.

Because seriously, his _shoelaces?_

The teenager couldn’t be any more adorable if he tried. Hobi’s always had a soft spot for cute makanes, and with Sanha being of a similar age to Jungkook when BTS had first debuted… _aish._ He’s surprised the kid’s hyungs let him wander around unsupervised – Kookie certainly hadn’t been given that sort of freedom until he was a lot older (and significantly less clumsy). Although he’d wandered off from the group often enough – Hoseok still has occasional nightmares about the time the maknae got separated from the rest of them during _Bon Voyage._

“Tae said the kid was lost?”

Jimin nods, lips quirking a little at one corner as he peers towards the sleeping teenager fondly. “Yeah. Poor baby can’t find his room.”

“To be fair, all the corridors in this hotel look the same,” Jungkook points out, adorably defensive of the younger maknae (Hoseok wants to squish _both_ their cheeks). “Even I had trouble finding my way back here. And Sanha looked so exhausted, I’d be surprised if he even knew what day it was.”

Hoseok finds great amusement in the way that Jungkook uses the phrase _‘even I had trouble’_ , especially given the younger man’s previous track record of having an _abysmal_ sense of direction. The choreographer manages to keep himself from laughing through sheer force of will, instead focusing on the present concern.

“So I’m guessing the rest of Astro have no idea where he is?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “Nope.”

Sharing a brief, serious look with Jimin (the sort of look Jungkook wouldn’t understand, because he’s never had to deal with a situation where his youngest brother has been missing for god only knows how long and _nobody knows how to find him),_ Hoseok heaves a grim sigh.

“That sucks,” he sympathises. “His hyungs must be worried sick.”

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

When the elevator doors slide open, MJ stumbles out into the corridor with a sudden cry of surprise as though dragged forwards by some unseen force, throwing a hand back towards the rest of the group with a look of terror and desperation.

“Ahh! Help me!”

Watching the dramatic scene unfold from inside the elevator, Minhyuk gives him a half-hearted wave. “Bye.”

“Have fun with the ghosts,” Moonbin adds cheerfully, having plastered himself (as usual) to Eunwoo’s back, chin resting on the visual’s shoulder as he shoots MJ a teasing grin. “We’ll remember you fondly, hyung.”

Myungjun gives one of his high, explosive laughs, straightening up from his dramatic pose to plant his hands on his hips, spinning to face the rest of the assembled group and feigning offense.

“Yah! Whatever happened to loyalty?”

“I’ll save you, hyung,” Jinwoo says obligingly, pocketing his phone and crossing over to wrap his arms around the singer in a secure backhug. “How about we let the ghosts take Eunwoo instead?”

“I second that,” Rocky pipes up, raising a hand as though casting a vote.

Moonbin copies him. “And me.”

“Eh?!” Eunwoo looks a little startled at the unexpected attack, but he laughs all the same even as he pulls away from Moonbin’s hold. “Why is it always me?”

“You’re the handsome intellectual,” Rocky tells him matter-of-factly, shoving him from the elevator with enough force to send the older boy stumbling a little (Minhyuk really doesn’t know his own strength sometimes). “They’re always the first ones to die in horror movies.”

“Yah, don’t say that!” Eunwoo moans, clapping his hands over his ears. “How am I supposed to sleep if you keep talking about ghosts?”

Jinwoo just laughs at the trio’s antics, shifting his grip on MJ to link their arms together instead and tugging him off down the corridor towards the hotel suite. The group’s resident happy-virus bounces along cheerfully at his side, sending JinJin a sunny smile that blooms warmth and affection in the leader’s chest.

He adores every member of Astro (how could he not – they’ve been through so much together these past twelve months, he doesn’t even want to imagine being parted from any of them), but Jinwoo can’t deny that his bond with MJ goes a little _beyond_ the sort of friendship that he shares with the rest of the group. Maybe it’s because with MJ, he gets to be the little brother again, and he can briefly forget about the burden of leadership whenever they’re together. Or maybe it’s because MJ has a smile bright enough to banish even the darkest raincloud, with a sense of humour that matches Jinwoo’s perfectly, and a fondness for _cuddling_ that makes him predisposed to curl himself around the leader like an octopus whenever they share a living space for more than a few minutes.

To be honest, JinJin’s pretty fond of hugging too.

They all are, come to think of it. Perhaps not quite to the same extent as their friends in KNK, but none of them really have any qualms about skinship both on- and off-camera. Rocky occasionally gets a little twitchy about personal space if someone is trying to hug _him_ , but the kid will happily drape himself over another member’s back or throw an arm around their shoulders. Jinwoo’s pretty sure the teenager just doesn’t like to be the little spoon.

And besides, when it comes to hugging, Sanha easily makes up for Rocky’s occasional reluctance – honestly, JinJin’s never met such a cuddly kid. He’s a little more shy about it on-camera, but back at the dorm he’s forever plastered to one of them, be it with a cheeky grin or a sleepy pout, depending on how worn out he is after a long day practicing in the studio.

Sanha has fallen asleep on top of Jinwoo more times than the leader can count, especially if they’ve been curled up together watching TV in the living room, or sitting side by side with a laptop perched on their knees for a marathon of Naver webtoons. There was once a time (going back a couple of years now) when JinJin could scoop the kid up easy as pie and carry him to bed, but Sanha’s most recent series of growth spurts have put him at a height equal to Eunwoo’s, and although he’s still as light as a feather (it’s an ongoing joke between the hyungs that the teenager, being their ‘baby bird’, has hollow bones), his long limbs make it a little more difficult to manoeuvre him now without the risk of tripping up.

It’s happened once before – Sanha ended up needing stitches, and Rocky wouldn’t leave the studio for two days straight out of guilt – so since then it’s been an unspoken rule that only the _taller_ members are allowed to attempt to scoop up their long-limbed baby if he’s asleep.

Which is the main reason why JinJin had sent the maknae up to bed ahead of the rest of them – there’s no way Sanha would’ve been able to stay awake waiting for (or during) their manager’s briefing, even though hyung had kept it wonderfully short on account of it already being so late. But JinJin’s pretty sure Sanha passed out the second his head hit the pillow, going by how exhausted he’d looked earlier. They’re _all_ tired, truth be told, and it’s little wonder why – between the jetlag, the excitement of being at KCon and the intensity of the past two days, there really hasn’t been a lot of time for sleep.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jinwoo says, glancing over his shoulder towards the younger three as they pause outside the two adjacent hotel suites that _Fantagio_ have reserved for them. “We all need to rest. Dongmin-ah, that means no studying. Binnie, hide his notebooks.”

“Aw, hyung,” Eunwoo protests, with just the barest hint of a whine. “Come on, seriously…”

JinJin holds up a silencing hand. “And no cartoons either. Rocky, hide his iPad.”

“Sure thing,” Minhyuk agrees, searching Eunwoo’s pockets for the hotel room’s key-card.

The group visual doesn’t even blink Rocky’s casual pat-down, too busy doing that almost-but-not-quite-pouting thing that JinJin finds both adorable and mildly annoying, because the younger man looks so _enviably handsome_ whilst doing it.

“I don’t watch cartoons,” Eunwoo counters, as though that changes anything. “It’s _anime,_ hyung.”

Pointing a finger at him, Jinwoo tries his best not to give into the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re still not staying up to watch it. Go to sleep.”

The younger man’s groan of frustration is effectively cut off by Rocky opening the hotel room door and silently but resolutely dragging him inside by the wrist.

God bless Minhyuk and his ability to get shit done regardless of the circumstances. The teenager might be the second-youngest, but there are times when he’s JinJin’s strongest ally in the ongoing, every-difficult uphill battle to keep his overly energetic group in some semblance of order. As the eldest, MJ _occasionally_ remembers how to be the mature hyung in a messy situation, but most of the time he’s just as bad as the kids. JinJin loves him anyway.

Moonbin shoots him a tired but reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, hyung; we’ll make sure he goes to bed.”

“Thank you.” Jinwoo smiles gratefully, reaching out to squeeze the dancer’s shoulder. “Sleep well.”

“Yeah. You too, hyung.”

Once the door has closed behind the younger three, JinJin becomes aware of hands pawing at his pockets, and glances over his shoulder at Myungjun with a raised eyebrow, a grin curling at his mouth.

“Are you not even going to soften me up with a drink first?”

“Park Jinwoo,” MJ gasps, and clutches a hand to his chest, faux-scandalised. “There are _children_ present.”

JinJin snorts. “There really aren’t, hyung. Besides, you’re the one feeling me up in the middle of the corridor.”

“And _you’re_ the one who stole my key.”

“I took it for safekeeping,” Jinwoo reasons calmly, pulling the plastic card from the front pocket of his hoodie. “You lose everything that isn’t glued down.”

MJ pokes him in the side sulkily. “Lies.”

“I’m sorry, do you or do you not lose your phone literally every other day?” JinJin teases, inserting the keycard into the slot to unlock the door to their suite. “And then there was that one time before debut when your wallet went missing, and that other time with your train tickets, and don’t even get me started on your _shoes_ -”

“Shh,” MJ hushes him abruptly, fingertips pressing against Jinwoo’s mouth. “You’ll wake Sanha.”

Jinwoo just arches a doubtful eyebrow, and accept the resultant and well-earned jab to his ribs with a muffled grunt, closing the door quietly behind them. The hotel room is still dimly lit, which isn’t unexpected – Sanha hates sleeping alone because he gets scared, and tends to leave a bedside lamp on even back in their dorm if he’s the first one to go to bed.

Nobody minds the habit; it certainly makes things easier for the rest of them – no more stubbed toes or bruised shins due to stumbling around in the dark.

MJ heads into the bathroom, having already called dibs on the sink to wash the heavy makeup from his face. JinJin moves further along the short entry corridor and into the main area of the hotel suite, eyes immediately zoning in on the second double-bed near the far wall…

A bed that appears to be _unoccupied._

Halting midstep, the leader glances around the hotel suite quickly, gaze flitting between the two perfectly-made beds and the plush couch on the other side of the room, all of which are utterly _devoid_ of a certain gangly teenager. Sanha’s phone is still where the teenager had left it earlier that day, sitting on the bedside table attached to its charger cable. Nothing in the room appears to have changed _at all,_ even the bedsheets are smooth and unwrinkled.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…_

“Hyung?” he calls over his shoulder, in a voice that sounds remarkably calm given the panic that’s already growing inside of him. “Sanha’s in there with you, right?”

The sound of running water cuts off abruptly.

“No,” MJ drawls, sounding faintly suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

JinJin rakes a hand through his hair as a cold, fearful sort of heaviness settles over him, making it harder to breathe, harder to move, harder to _think_ , his ears ringing faintly as he turns to head back towards the door.

Myungjun emerges from the bathroom, damp facecloth in hand and makeup untouched, worry creasing his brow when his gaze lands on JinJin. “What’s wrong with you? Where’s Sanha?”

“Not here,” the leader answers abruptly, already pulling the door open.

MJ doesn’t question him further, dropping the facecloth without a moment’s hesitation and following him out into the corridor, almost bumping into the rapper from behind when JinJin stops suddenly in front of the adjacent hotel suite to knock on the door.

“Did MJ-hyung lose his phone again?” Moonbin asks them the moment he opens it, but his wide, teasing grin quickly fades at the grim expression Jinwoo’s sure he’s wearing, and the dancer’s gaze shifts between the two older men in growing concern. “What’s wrong?”

The sound of laughter from behind Moonbin births a teeny-tiny ray of hope in JinJin’s heart, and he prays that by some crazy miracle there’s been a freak accident involving the key-cards and that _somehow_ Sanha ended up with Rocky’s spare key instead of his own. The maknae’s going to come skipping out into the corridor any moment now, with a plaintive whine of _“JinJin-hyuuung, you gave me the wrong keeeey”,_ and everything will somehow be okay.

“Hyung?”

“Please tell me Sanha’s with you,” Jinwoo manages, in a voice that only sounds a _little bit_ strained.

“No. Why would…?” Moonbin’s confusion gives way to fear as the true gravity of the situation finally becomes clear. “Wait, he’s not with you?”

JinJin shakes his head, pushing past the dancer to sweep the hotel suite with his own eyes. He needs to check for himself, he needs to _make sure_ the maknae hasn’t just fallen asleep in the corner somewhere _,_ because if Sanha’s not in either of their rooms then that means…that means he’s…

“What’s going on?” Rocky asks, putting down the pillow he’d been in the process of lobbing at Eunwoo, glancing worriedly back and forth between his hyungs.

“Sanha’s not in our room,” MJ announces grimly, and there’s a dull _thunk_ as Eunwoo’s phone slips through his lax fingers and lands on the floor.

 _“What?_ Where is he?

Jinwoo sits down heavily on the edge of the nearest bed before his knees can give out, fisting his hair in both hands as he leans forward, the patterned carpet swirling before his eyes.

“Missing,” he answers, his voice hoarse. “Sanha’s missing.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :)
> 
> Poor Jinwoo, he's having a bit of a nervous breakdown. <3 Sanha's his baby, after all - I've never come across a hyung in any other Kpop group who was quite so protective and motherly, and that's saying something - so I imagine he'd find a situation like this quite stressful to say the least. Plus Sanha's an actual *child*, and they'd only been debuted a few short months at this point, so he was still fairly reliant on JinJin for a lot of things. The beagle maknae's a lot more confident nowadays (still super cute and affectionate, though), but back then the group as a whole babied him *so much*, it's adorable - you have to watch some of their interviews and TV appearances from their debut period. Sanha is so spoiled and so well-loved. <3 
> 
> And we all know Hobi is a big cuddly bear of a hyung, so of course he finds Astro's baby-faced maknae adorable. Sanha could bring out the protective instincts in a block of granite. :P
> 
> I really appreciate all the positive feedback so far, thanks for supporting this story! And thank you for being so patient waiting for an update, I've been working on a few different stories recently but I've by no means abandoned this one. 
> 
> And for those who may ask - yes, I'm already planning on a story that expands on "that one time Rocky tried to scoop up a sleeping Sahna and accidentally dropped him on his head, resulting in Sanha needing stitches and Rocky burying himself in choreography for two days straight until Jinwoo dragged him back home again". Because I can totally see that as something that could happen. ;P 
> 
> Love you! ARMY and Aroha fighting! <3 xxx


	4. Reclaimed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JinJin and the rest of Astro search for their missing maknae. All's well that ends well.

.

“Fifteen minutes,” Jinwoo announces decisively, glancing at each of his group members in turn. “If we still haven’t found Sanha by then, I’m waking manager-nim.”

The others nod seriously, looking every bit as worried as Jinwoo feels. The sheer panic that had gripped him only minutes ago (when he’d first realised Sanha’s whereabouts were unknown) has faded a little, forcefully quashed by JinJin’s determination to resolve the situation as quickly and calmly as possible.

There’s a whole heap of reasons why his maknae might be missing. Maybe Sanha ended up on the wrong floor and is wandering the hotel trying to find their room (easily done – all the doors look the same, and Sanha’s English pretty bad so he’d be reluctant to go down to the reception desk and ask for help). Or maybe he didn’t like staying in the hotel suite all by himself (Sanha has always been reluctant to sleep on his own, even back at their dorm), and had decided to head back downstairs to the conference room instead. They probably only missed him by a few seconds – it’ll have been like a scene from a movie, where the doors to one of the elevators close at the same moment the other doors open, and neither party catches sight of one another. That’ll be it. They’ll laugh about the whole sorry mess tomorrow, JinJin’s sure of it.

Sanha’s _fine._ He has to be.

“We should split up,” Eunwoo suggests, closing the door behind them as they step out into the hotel corridor. “We can cover more ground that way.”

Moonbin nods, speaking quickly like he always does when he’s nervous or worried. “I’ll head downstairs to search the ground floor, and work my way back up from there.”

“Don’t run off on your own,” Jinwoo cautions as the dancer turns to leave. “The last thing we need is two people missing. Minhyuk-ah, you go with him.”

The teenager nods, a sharp dip of his head, his face otherwise expressionless. To a stranger his demeanour might come across as disinterested, but they’ve known Rocky for years now, and his whole posture just _screams_ anxiety. The way his shoulders are tensed, the way his hands keep clenching and unclenching spasmodically, the way he can’t keep still for more than a few seconds, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Rocky’s usually the epitome of _relaxed,_ never letting the stress of a busy schedule phase him – but right now he’s about as close to panicking as Jinwoo’s ever seen him.

Moonbin seems to have noticed this too (which doesn’t surprise JinJin one bit, given that they’ve known each other almost five years), and reaches out quickly to curl his fingers around Rocky’s wrist with a low murmur, tugging him closer. The younger dancer sways with the motion, allowing himself to be pulled into a brief sideways hug, Moonbin’s muscular arm wrapping bracingly around his shoulders.

“He’ll be okay,” Binnie insists, with a forced sort of confidence that Jinwoo wishes he had the strength to muster. “Sanha probably just went to buy a snack from the vending machines or something. We’ll beat him up for scaring us later, yeah?”

Minhyuk doesn’t answer, but when his fists uncurl this time they don’t immediately clench again afterwards.

“Keep your phones with you,” Jinwoo tells them seriously, pulling his own from his back pocket to make sure the sound is on. “Call me the minute you find him, okay?”

The two younger boys nod quickly, Moonbin’s arm dropping again to grab hold of Rocky’s hand, and in the blink of an eye the two dancers are heading off down the corridor at a run. Jinwoo puffs out a steadying breath, forcefully suppressing the brief flutter of panic in his chest that blooms when the niggling voice in the back of his head whispers a paranoid ‘ _but what if they go missing, too?’_

He can’t let himself fall prey to those kind of irrational fears. Minhyuk’s still just a kid, sure, but he’s dependable, with a maturity that goes beyond his years – even more so than the rest of the group, at times. And Binnie won’t let anything happen to him. They’ve got each other’s backs, they’ll be just _fine._

“JinJin?”

Myungjun’s hand on his wrist pulls him quickly from his panicked thoughts, and he glances up to find the singer watching him in concern. Trying hard to school his expression to something that doesn’t appear quite so _stressed,_ Jinwoo slides his hand into MJ’s, tangling their fingers together and squeezing tightly, reassuringly. He’s the leader. He’s got this. Everything’s going to be okay.

“We’ll go up to the top floor and work our way down,” he tells his two companions, holding up a hand when Dongmin opens his mouth to protest. “No, you’re not going _anywhere_ on your own. Don’t argue with me. I’m not losing anyone else tonight.”

That seems to shut the younger man up, and Jinwoo feels a brief twinge of guilt at his firm tone. He tries not to speak harshly to the other members if he can possibly help it (he’d sworn to himself that he’d never be the sort of leader whose authority stemmed from anger and impatience), but he can tell Eunwoo wants to rush off and search for Sanha on his own (the visual of the group has always been inclined to fuss and fret over their maknae), and Jinwoo isn’t in the mood to debate the matter. There just isn’t _time._

 

 

 

 

The elevator ride to the top floor is wrought with silent tension.

Jinwoo’s gaze flickers from the illuminated numbers on the control panel to the tiny screen above the doors that indicates what floor they’re on. It seems to take _forever_ for the number display to change as they ascend, like _seriously,_ did the hotel deliberately install the slowest elevator known to mankind or does the universe just feel like shitting on him today?

“MJ-hyung, why don’t you hold the doors?” Eunwoo suggests, reaching out to stop Myungjun as the older singer moves to step from the elevator. “It’ll be quicker if you punch in the number for each floor and wait for us.”

Jinwoo thanks his lucky stars every day that _Fantagio_ decided to let Dongmin debut as a member of Astro, despite originally being trained for a career in acting and modelling – the younger man’s a _genius,_ and it’s his practical thinking and ability to problem-solve on the spot that’s saved them time and again in the past.

“Good thinking,” Jinwoo agrees, clapping a hand down on Eunwoo’s shoulder and nodding to MJ as the singer moves to stand beside the elevator control panel. “We’ll be back in a minute, hyung.”

In reality, it probably only takes them about forty-five seconds to sprint from one end of the long hotel corridor to the other and back again. Jinwoo isn’t much of a natural runner himself (his legs are short, there’s no use in denying the facts), but Eunwoo is tall and slender athletic as _fuck,_ so he sprints on ahead effortlessly before doubling back to join his leader, shaking his head at Jinwoo briefly as they turn to jog back towards the elevator together.

One floor down, eleven more to go.

They’re exactly eight minutes into their search (somewhat out of breath, with a light sheen of sweat beginning to form at Jinwoo’s temples from all the running) when his cell phone starts to ring. Both MJ and Eunwoo glance towards him sharply, something like hope dawning in their eyes, and JinJin almost drops the device in his haste to pull it free from the front pocket of his hoodie, hands fumbling clumsily to turn it the right way up.

_Unknown Caller_

Only slightly disappointed that it isn’t Minhyuk or Binnie (after all, someone _else_ might have found Sanha, and it isn’t like he has the numbers of every _Fantagio_ staff member who came with them to LA), he taps the screen to accept the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he answers politely.

 _“Hello,”_ a vaguely-familiar voice greets him, pleasant and cheerful. _“JinJin-ssi?”_

Jinwoo wracks his brain for half a second, trying to put a face to the speaker. They had called him ‘JinJin’ rather than Jinwoo, so it’s less likely to be one of the staff members. It’s definitely someone he knows, because that _voice_ , he’s heard it somewhere before without a doubt…

“Yes, speaking,” Jinwoo confirms, with a brief glance towards MJ, who’s watching him with bated breath, clearly praying for good news.

 _“This is Kim Namjoon,”_ the speaker continues, and Jinwoo swears his heart stops beating for a moment. _“Uh, Rap Monster, from BTS. We met backstage earlier today?”_

As if JinJin could possibly be unaware of Kim Namjoon’s stage name. He’s only been stanning BTS since 2013, no biggie. Rap Monster’s only one of his biggest role models ever. It’s cool. He’s fine.

The shock must show on his face, because MJ’s looking at him in alarm now and mouthing a concerned _‘who is it?’_ , reaching out to take Jinwoo’s free hand in his own, fingers squeezing the appendage nervously. JinJin manages to unfreeze himself after a short beat, and forces out a reply, grateful that his voice doesn’t sound too strained.

“Oh, sunbae-nim, hi,” he returns faintly. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting…anyway, how can I help you?”

He hopes his lack of conversational niceties doesn’t come across as rude. Usually JinJin’s pretty comfortable talking to other idols, and can exchange pleasantries easily with sunbae groups backstage at shows like MusicBank and Inkigayo. And he’s fucking _dreamed_ of the day that Kim Namjoon would call him for a casual conversation – in his head, he’d had the whole thing planned out. They’d talk about music, and their shared passion for rapping; the sort of literature that had influenced their lyrics, the names of artists past and present who inspired them. In Jinwoo’s head, the conversation had been so _seamless,_ the chemistry between them as natural as breathing, and it had sparked the possibility of something more than just professional admiration – something more like _friendship._

But Jinwoo doesn’t have time to charm Rap Monster with his heart and soul; his clumsy, vulnerable, underage maknae is missing, and every second he spends on the phone is one less moment spent looking for Sanha. He needs to make this conversation as brief as possible without insulting the sunbae idol.  

 _“‘Hyung’ is fine, JinJin-ssi,”_ Namjoon tells him, and JinJin feels his cheeks heat a little at the man’s easy, friendly manner. At least it’s a phone conversation, and Rap Monster can’t actually see his Major Fanboy Moment in person. _“Look, I’m sorry to call you so late at night, man, but I thought you might like to know that your maknae’s with us.”_

Jinwoo’s heart stops beating for the second time in as many minutes, and he takes a stumbling step backwards, bumping into the wall of the elevator and leaning against it for support as _worry-hope-relief_ courses through him in overpowering waves. MJ makes a quiet, alarmed noise in the back of his throat, fingers tightening around his hand.

“You…you found Sanha?” Jinwoo manages, only sounding a _little bit_ winded. Eunwoo lurches forward to grip onto his other arm, eyes wide and anxious. Jinwoo knows exactly how he feels, but manages to keep his voice from wobbling as he presses, urgently, “Aigoo, where? How?”

_“Jungkook-ah bumped into him in the hallway near our suite. I think the kid had gotten himself lost trying to find his way back to your room, and he couldn’t remember which floor you guys had booked into-”_

Ohh, that’s it. Jinwoo is never letting that child out of his sight again. _Ever._

_“-and what with him being injured and all, Kookie figured it was better to let him rest back in our room until we’d figured out a way to contact you guys.”_

“Injured?” Jinwoo echoes, and shares a startled, worried glance with both Eunwoo and MJ. The awful, worst-case-scenario images flash through his mind all over again, and he swallows hard, gut twisting itself into knots. “Ohmygod, is it serious?”

 _“He’ll be fine,”_ Namjoon reassures him, with the sort of sympathetic understanding that JinJin imagines a leader can only gain through personal experience (from what he’s heard on the grapevine – i.e. from various conversations with Yugyeom over the past few months – Junkook has a knack for getting himself into dangerous situations too). _“Hobi thinks it’s just a bad sprain, but Sanha’s ankle is pretty swollen. He won’t be able to walk on it for a little while, that’s for sure. Are you guys free to come help him back to your room? I mean, we’re more than happy to keep him with us overnight, but-”_

“No,” the younger rapper interjects, probably a little too quickly. He clears his throat and amends, with all due politeness, “No, but thank you. We’re actually out looking for him right now, so we can come over straight away. Which floor are you on?”

 _“Fifth,”_ Namjoon answers, and JinJin can hear the smile in his voice. The warmth and understanding there puts him at ease – the other leader clearly understands the level stress he’s been through during Sanha’s absence. _“I’ll meet you by the elevator, okay?”_

Holding up five fingers to Eunwoo and gesturing towards the control panel, Jinwoo nods his agreement, even though the sunbae idol can’t see him.

“Okay. That’s…that’d be great, hyung.”

He should probably hang up now. The elevator’s already beginning to descend to the fifth floor, and it’d be awkward if he was still on the phone when the doors opened and brought him face-to-face with Rap Monster. Jinwoo usually handles conversations better than this, where’s his casual demeanour gone? He has a reputation to uphold. Kim Namjoon’s gonna think he’s a nervous _wreck._

_“You okay, kid?”_

Either the older rapper’s psychic, or JinJin’s shaky breathing is more audible than he initially thought. He swallows hard and draws in a deeper, steadying breath, squeezing MJ’s hand in return when the singer gives him another worried look.

“Sorry. Just…it wasn’t quite how I’d planned to spend my evening, y’know? That kid’s gonna turn me grey.”

 _“Yeah. I feel you,”_ Namjoon sympathises, and JinJin believes him. _“Maknaes, am I right?”_

Jinwoo feels his lips curl into a half-grin despite the worry still sitting like a tight band around his chest. “I’m guessing this part doesn’t get any easier?”

The sunbae idol snorts. _“Hell no. Kookie gives me a heart attack just about every other day. Kid’s worth it, though.”_

“Mm,” JinJin agrees with a softer, fonder smile, and he’s not thinking about Jungkook. He’s silent for a moment, before a sudden thought occurs to him. “Hyung? I don’t mean to be rude, but how did you get hold of this number?”

The elevator slows to a halt suddenly, and half a second later the doors slide open. Standing a few feet away (right alongside Min Yoongi, because apparently all of Jinwoo’s fanboy dreams are coming true at once), Namjoon flashes him a casual smile, hanging up the call and shoving his cell phone back into his back pocket.

“A mutual friend gave it to me,” Rap Monster (of fucking BTS, holy crap) tells him, reaching out to grasp Jinwoo’s hand as the younger man steps forward with a polite bow. “Seungjun-hyung says hi, by the way.”

A startled huff of laughter escapes JinJin’s lips at that. He’d totally forgotten the eldest member of their fellow rookie group _KNK_ had trained under BigHit alongside Namjoon and the others. The older singer and his bandmates were all so down-to-earth and friendly (and _cuddly,_ Christ almighty) that it had only taken a couple of days sharing a dressing room with them at ShowChamp for the two groups to become inseparable.

Jinwoo has never been more grateful in his life for Seungjun’s friendliness – if he hadn’t given the gentle giant his phone number a few months back, god only knows how BTS would’ve been able to contact him about Sanha.

He’s gonna buy the man _so_ much coffee when they get back to Seoul.

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

JinJin looks stressed.

It’s subtle – the man’s hiding it well behind a friendly smile – but Sanha’s known him since he was twelve, and the signs are all there. Not to mention the guy’s a great big fusspot who freaks out whenever Sanha so much as bangs his knee, so disappearing suddenly and without warning is bound to have given the rapper some grief.

 It’s making Sanha feel horribly guilty.

“I don’t think it’s as bad as last time,” he tries to reassure his leader, as Eunwoo and JinJin peer down at his swollen ankle critically, the injured limb still cradled carefully on a pillow in Jimin’s lap. “It just _looks_ bad, that’s all. Honestly, it’s actually my knee that kinda hurts more than my foot does.”

Eunwoo glances up sharply at that, concern still knitting his brow. “Your knee?” he echoes worriedly. “Wait, what happened to your knee?”

Realising that he’s only made the situation worse, Sanha opens his mouth to reply with a casually dismissive _“nothing, hyung, I’m fine”,_ but Jimin beats him to it. The man is _really_ quick-witted, Sanha has to give him that.

“Jeon Jungkook happened,” the dancer answers, with a cheerful little grin.

Taehyung puts a hand to one side of his mouth to whisper ‘secretively’. “Kookie kicked him.”

Sanha feels the accused maknae tense behind him, the man’s arm tightening a little where it’s still looped around his midriff. 

“It was an accident,” Jungkook elaborates quickly.

The younger maknae nods, eager to reassure his hyungs and (more importantly) to stop them from looking at Jungkook in such an accusatory manner.

“It was my fault, hyung,” he insists, reaching up to tug on MJ’s sleeve when the older singer looks ready to rescue him from Jungkook’s hold. “I was sitting in the middle of the corridor when he came around the corner; I was the one who tripped him.”

Eunwoo heaves a sigh, dragging a hand down his face tiredly, although Sanha swears he sees a tiny smile tugging at the visual’s mouth for a brief moment.

“Aigoo, Yoon Sanha. I swear your clumsiness gets _worse_ as you grow older.”

Myungjun’s fingers ruffle his curls gently. “I told you there were no benefits to growing so tall, beanpole,” the man teases. Then he blanches, and glances across quickly towards Namjoon and Jin, who are standing on the opposite side of the bed. “Uh. No offence, sunbae-nims.”

The assembled BTS members laugh, Jin’s the loudest of them all (Sanha decides his laugh is almost as funny as MJ’s… _almost)_ , and after half a beat his Astro hyungs follow suit. Of course Sanha can see the humour in the situation, but honestly he’s so tired and _sore_ that he can’t muster up the energy to do more than smile a little.

Jinwoo, ever the observant hyung (seriously, he’s Sanha’s favourite person in the world right now), notices his lack of reaction almost immediately and reaches down to gently pat his uninjured knee.

“It’s late,” he murmurs. “Time for bed, maknae.”

Sanha nods, suppressing a sigh of relief. It’s not that he dislikes the company of the sunbae group or anything, but he’s so freaking _tired,_ and he wants to whine to the others about his aching foot without worrying about being judged.

“He won’t be able to walk on that ankle,” Yoongi cautions, as Hobi and MJ help Sanha sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.

The man’s not lying. Sanha hasn’t even put any weight on his foot yet, but already his whole lower leg’s throbbing. Maybe camping out with BTS for the night isn’t such a bad idea after all…

“Come on, kiddo.” Eunwoo moves to crouch down at the bedside, his back facing Sanha. “Climb on.”

It certainly isn’t the first time the older singer’s given him a piggyback – it’s become a favourite at fanmeets and other public events. Plus Eunwoo’s strong (much stronger than his slim physique might suggest), and sometimes he likes carrying Sanha around like this just for the fun of it. Or to get him to hurry up when they’re walking back to the dorm after practice, when Sanha feels like curling up in a ball and going to sleep on the studio floor.

There’s a part of him that knows he ought to be embarrassed about being carried out on Eunwoo’s back in front of BTS. But there’s an even bigger part of him that feels _super_ relieved to be able to drape his arms over Eunwo’s shoulders and give the man a prolonged backhug without judgement. He’s really craving cuddles right now.

“Thank you so much for everything,” he hears Jinwoo saying, as he and MJ move to shake hands with the sunbae idols. “And if there’s anything we can ever do for you in return, please don’t hesitate to ask. We’re indebted to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Namjoon reassures, clapping a hand down on Jinwoo’s shoulder as he rises from his bow. “It was a pleasure getting to know you all a little better. I hope next time we meet it won’t be under such difficult circumstances.”

Sanha likes the sound of that. ‘Next time’. He really wants to get to know Jungkook and Tae and Jimin, they were all so _nice_ to him. And Jungkook gives really amazing hugs.

“Make sure you elevate his ankle,” Jin says to MJ and Jinwoo, once Sanha has said his own profuse ‘thank you’s and Eunwoo has begun heading for the exit. “Keep it iced as long as you can – all night, if possible. You might want to think about getting it x-rayed if the swelling hasn’t settled by morning…”

The rest of the conversation is lost to him as Eunwoo sets off along the corridor. Sanha heaves another tired sigh, hugging his arms around the visual a little tighter and resting his cheek against the side of Eunwoo’s head.

The older singer slows but doesn’t stop, adjusting his hold on the teenager’s legs carefully.

“Sanha-gah? You doing okay back there?”

The maknae nods silently.

“Are you sure?”

Sanha gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment, before mumbling, “Is JinJin-hyung mad at me?”

“No, why would he…?” Eunwoo does come to a halt then. “It isn’t your fault you got hurt, baby. These things just happen sometimes. Jinwoo-hyung knows that.”

The teenager pouts a little, hiding the expression in Eunwoo’s shoulder. “He looked stressed.”

Eunwoo sighs softly. “You scared him, Sanha. Scared all of us, as a matter of fact. Don’t do that again, alright? Hyung can’t afford to age too quickly, nobody will want to hire me for commercials anymore.”

“Bet you’d still look handsome even with wrinkles,” Sanha tells him, smirking, and he hears Eunwoo laugh quietly. “You could be the new sexy grandpa of Kpop.”

The man laughs a little louder at that. “Yah! Do you want me to drop you?”

“Don’t even think about it,” Jinwoo interjects, coming up alongside Eunwoo as they reach the elevator, sliding a hand up Sanha’s back in a passing caress. “He’s already hurt one of his legs, he doesn’t need any help in injuring the other one. It’s going to be hard enough persuading Binnie and Minhyuk not to pounce on him the moment we get back.”

Sanha blinks at that and glances around, suddenly remembering his two missing bandmates.

“Where are they, anyway?” he asks. “Did they go to bed already?”

He sees Jinwoo’s hand freeze halfway towards pressing the call button for the elevator, and feels Eunwoo go tense beneath him. MJ, having jogged along the corridor to catch up with them, slows to a halt and glances between the three of them, perplexed.

“What’s with the frowny faces all of a sudden!” he asks, pointing from Jinwoo to Eunwoo in suspicious accusation.

Jinwoo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before dragging a hand through his hair.

“We forgot to tell the others about Sanha.”

MJ winces. “Aish. Binnie’s going to be _pissed._ ”

 

 

.TBC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! :D
> 
> I deviated a little from the dialogue used in 'He Ain't Heavy', but if you'd like to read the BTS/Astro scene in full, there's a lengthier version in the chapter titled 'Little Boy Lost'. <3
> 
> Only one more chapter to go! <3 As always, thank you for all the wonderful support you've shown me this far. <3 xxxx


	5. Panic Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanha's hurt. Everyone worries. There's cuddling.

.

Eunwoo and MJ insist on helping Sanha change into his pyjamas, despite the teenager’s whining protests that he can do it himself – _“hyuuung, seriously, I’m not five…ow!”_ – and Jinwoo hovers nearby, reluctant to let the kid out of his sight. The leader keeps peering up from his phone periodically to check on him as he sends a quick text to both Rocky and Moonbin, informing them of the maknae’s safe return.

“Hyung?” Sanha frets a few minutes later as he hobbles towards the bathroom, supported on either side by MJ and Dongmin. “Could…will you tell Rocky-hyung and Binnie-hyung that I’m _really_ sorry they had to stay up so late looking for me?”

JinJin glances up from Binnie’s reply (a hurriedly typed and terribly misspelt mishmash of words that he surmises must mean something along the lines of _‘oh thank god, we’ll be right there, I’m gonna kill him’,_ but it’s difficult to say for sure), and shoots the maknae a fondly exasperated look.

“Hey. We’ve been over this already, kiddo,” he returns gently. “It wasn’t your fault you got hurt; accidents happen, that’s just the way of things. If anything, this is on me – I shouldn’t have sent you upstairs on your own in the first place. You don’t need to keep apologising, okay? Nobody’s upset with you.”

“Not even Binnie-hyung?” Sanha hedges tentatively.

Jinwoo flashes him a soft, reassuring smile and shakes his head, making a mental note to intercept Moonbin before the dancer has any sort of interaction with Sanha _just in case_ his text-message sentiments still hold true. Binnie loves their maknae as much as a the rest of the group, but they're all running on short-fuses at the moment after three days of minimal rest. The dancer is easily worried (especially when it comes to their maknae), and there’s a fair chance that in his relief Bin might lose his cool and feel the urge to shake the stuffing out of Sanha for all the panic he’s caused.

The teenager still looks miserably guilty, pausing for a moment to glance back over his shoulder towards JinJin. “But what if he-”

“Bathroom,” Eunwoo reminds the boy quietly, giving Sanha’s butt a prompting little pat to encourage him to take another careful hop forwards. “You need to wash your face, punk, and then it’s time for bed.”

The teenager looks too tired to offer up any further protest, letting MJ and Dongmin guide him across the room to the en-suite bathroom. Jinwoo waits until he hears the sound of running water and Myungjun’s loud, cheerful chatter before sinking down to sit on the edge of the nearest bed with a long, weary sigh, raking a hand through his hair.

Aigoo, he’s _exhausted._

The rollercoaster of emotions he’s experienced over the course of the day has totally drained him, and all he wants to do right now is curl up in a ball and go to sleep. But there’s a part of him that already knows he’s going to spend the majority of the night unable to switch off, his mind still buzzing in the wake of his recent state of panic.

Sanha’s safe now, and relatively unharmed, but that doesn’t stop Jinwoo from thinking about everything that _could_ have happened. What if Jungkook hadn’t stumbled across Sanha out in the corridor, or what if someone _else_ had, a person with less altruistic intentions who could have easily decided to take advantage of a young, vulnerable, injured teenager who _barely speaks ten words of English, aigoo-_

Thankfully, the sound of knocking on the door to the hotel suite pulls Jinwoo from his dark, rapidly decaying train of thought before his previous paranoia can return with a vengeance.

He sucks in a deep, steadying breath and forcefully pushes those concerns back down again (there’ll be time to deal with them later, once the younger members are settled and asleep), hopping up from the bed to go and answer the door.

JinJin already knows who he’ll find on the other side, so he’s able to put out a hand quick enough to stop Moonbin from hurrying past him, instead pushing the teenager backwards and stepping out into the hotel corridor to join Astro’s two main dancers, pulling the door closed firmly behind him.

“Hyung?” Bin blinks at him in confusion, clearly taken aback. “What are you-”

“Sanha’s already upset enough about what happened,” Jinwoo tells him, keeping his voice hushed so that it won’t carry through the closed door. “What he needs right now is reassurance. I know you're worried, but you’re not going in there until you’ve calmed down, Bin-ah.”

“Wait, what happened to San?” Minhyuk presses, low and urgent, as he latches onto JinJin’s arm, fingers gripping the sleeve of the rapper’s hoodie and brow creasing in concern. “Why is he upset? Is he hurt?”

Jinwoo reaches out to squeeze the younger man’s shoulder, feeling a brief twinge of guilt for having prevented the youth from heading inside to see his dongsaeng straight away. Honestly, he doesn’t harbour any concerns about Rocky losing his cool (Jinwoo can count on one hand the number of times the teenager has so much as raised his voice to Sanha over the past few years – the two maknaes are inseparable, despite their personalities being so radically different), but Minhuk is occasionally the only one who can get Bin to calm down when he’s _really_ upset, so in this situation JinJin’s relying on him as the auxiliary defence, just in case Binnie’s worked himself up during his frantic search for the baby of the group.

“Sanha tripped over on his way back to our room,” the leader replies, in a tone that’s both calm and serious. “He’s sprained his ankle pretty bad, the kid can barely walk. He’d managed to get himself lost on another floor, and by the time someone found him he was tired and sore and feeling like crap. So he doesn’t need anybody else guilt-tripping him about how worried we all were when we couldn’t find him. I know he scared you by disappearing, but he's had a much bigger scare than the rest of us put together.”

The last part is directed towards Moonbin again, whose faint frown of perplexity has quickly been replaced by a more familiar look of sympathy and concern.

“I won’t even mention it, I promise,” the dancer says quickly, his gaze flickering between Jinwoo’s face and the closed door as he shifts from foot to foot restlessly. “Hyung, can we go see him now? Please?”

Sensing that the winds of misplaced-ire have indeed gone from Moonbin’s sails, Jinwoo pulls the swipe-card from his back pocket and quickly unlocks the door, pushing it open and letting the two younger idols hurry past him.

“Yah! There you are,” MJ calls, holding the bathroom door open so that Sanha can hobble out, one arm slung across Eunwoo’s shoulders for support as he tentatively sets his injured foot down. “What took you so long?”

Sanha glances up from the floor, his expression caught in a wince, but his eyes quickly blow wide when he sees Moonbin and Rocky, lips parting in what Jinwoo is ninety-nine percent sure is going to be a hurried litany of apologies.

“Ai! You shouldn’t be putting weight on it, dummy,” Minhyuk fusses, hurriedly crossing over to the pair in a few brisk strides to pull Sanha’s arm across his own shoulders and brace him from the other side. “You need to ice it first.”

The maknae ducks his head, but leans noticeably into Rocky’s side-hug. “I already did.”

“Well, you need to ice it _more,_ stupid,” the rapper tells him, but there’s no bite to his tone as he helps Sanha hop over to the nearest of the double beds, peering down at the younger teen’s injured ankle. “Aigoo, it’s really fucking swollen, man.”

“Yah,” Jinwoo warns, more surprised by the teenager’s language than anything (Rocky rarely, if ever, swears in front of the rest of the group).

“To be fair, hyung, he’s not wrong,” Moonbin points out. The dancer has overtaken the trio to kneel up on the mattress, shoes already kicked off on the floor, hands outstretched to support Sanha as the teen lowers himself down onto the bed and begins to scoot backwards. “His ankle looks _bad._ ”

The maknae sucks in a pained, hitching sort of gasp, face contorting in discomfort as Eunwoo carefully and wincingly helps him to lift his injured leg up onto the mattress. Moonbin makes a low noise of concern in the back of his throat, arms looping around Sanha from behind in a comforting backhug.

“Do you want some pain meds?” he offers gently, hand patting Sanha’s chest as the teenager tries to settle his rapid breathing. “I’ve got some in my luggage.”

The maknae peers over his shoulder to give Binnie a grateful, wincing sort of smile. “Yes please.”

Moonbin nods, gives the kid’s chest one last pat before he slides out from behind him. “I’ll be right back,” he promises, heading for the door, almost bumping into Jinwoo in his haste (who recovers quickly enough to press the room’s key-card into Bin’s hand). “Don’t go anywhere, okay?”

“Like he could,” Rocky mutters sarcastically, kicking off his own shoes so that he can join Sanha on the bed.

The dancer helps to support Sanha’s lower leg as MJ carefully slides a cushion from the nearby couch beneath the teen’s foot. He reaches out, fingers hovering a hairsbreadth above the swollen, puffy skin, hesitating briefly as he glances towards the maknae.

“Can I? I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

The younger boy looks understandably uneasy at the thought of anyone touching his injured foot, but after a short pause he nods his consent, albeit with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Jinwoo moves around the bed and scoots across the mattress to sit directly behind Sanha, wrapping his arms around the skinny teenager and hooking his chin over the maknae’s shoulder as he watches Minhyuk carefully feel around the swollen joint with the tips of his fingers. Realistically, if any of them are going to have any clue about the severity of Sanha’s injury, it’s Rocky – the teen’s a professional dancer, and as such he’s been icing and strapping sprains and strains for years now, a long time before any of the rest of them (perhaps with the exception of Moonbin) had even _considered_ becoming an idol.

Sanha endures the careful ministrations in admirable silence, expression pinched in discomfort and the back of his hand held to his mouth as though to muffle any sounds that might escape his tightly-sealed lips.

“Wiggle your toes,” Minhuk instructs, and gives the maknae a thumbs-up when he obeys. “Awesome. Point them for me.” Sanha does so, this time releasing a soft little pained grunt, and Rocky glances up at him. “Do you want me to stop?”

Sanha shakes his head resolutely, schooling his expression again. “It’s fine. I’m good.”

“Like hell you are,” MJ mutters, hovering worriedly near the foot of the bed beside Eunwoo with his arms crossed over his chest, brow creased in concern.

Jinwoo squeezes the teenager from behind. “You don’t have to put a brave face on in front of the rest of us, you know,” he murmurs. “That ankle’s gotta be throbbing something fierce by now.”

“Well…” Sanha heaves a weary little sigh, fingers playing idly with Jinwoo’s where they rest against his midriff. “I guess it does kinda hurt a little b- _ahhh!”_

Sanha draws his knee up sharply, pulling is injured ankle away from Minhyuk’s probing fingers and rolling a little to one side with a high-pitched, keening sort of whine, face creased in pain. Jinwoo’s arms tighten around him in alarm as Rocky startles, his expression of concentration shattering to one of guilt and concern as he darts forwards to grip Sanha’s shoulders and help turn him over again.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck! I’m sorry!” the dancer rushes to apologise, half-draping himself over Sanha’s upper body as he hugs the younger teenager. “That was my fault, I should’ve stopped sooner. Aigoo, are you okay? Sanha? San? Come on, dude, you’re freaking me out here.”

Jinwoo feels the teenager’s body shudder a little with his next indrawn breath, and tightens his arms around the boy again in another hug, wishing he had the power to switch places with his maknae and take the pain away for good.

“That…that really hurt, hyung,” Sanha manages after a short, pregnant pause, and the audible wobble in his voice makes something _ache_ in JinJin’s chest.

“You want me to beat him up for you, kiddo?” Jinwoo offers in as casual a tone as he can summon, giving Sanha another squeeze.

The maknae sniffs a little and shakes his head, swiping the sleeve of his hoodie across his eyes. Rocky’s face crumples further in at the action, guilt etched into every inch of his face, a hand coming up to lightly ruffle Sanha’s messy curls.

“Aw, bud…I’m really sorry. Please don’t cry.”

Sanha hunkers down a little further in JinJin’s hold. “I’m _not,_ ” he insists flatly, but his voice cracks all the same. “Shut up.”

“Shutting up,” Minhyuk agrees obligingly, for once ignoring the fact that Sanha had just spoken to him informally.

Eunwoo comes around the side of the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress as he gently rubs Sanha’s shoulder.

“It’s late,” he says quietly, and catches Jinwoo’s eye. “We should go to bed while we still can, hyung. We can ice his ankle overnight, hopefully the swelling will go down a little.” He brushes Sanha’s fringe back from his forehead and smiles at the teenager warmly. “That seems the most sensible option at the moment, don’t you think?”

“I think,” Sanha answers, with an exaggerated pout that Jinwoo’s pretty sure the maknae’s mustered up to make Rocky smile, “I should’ve stayed with Jungkook-hyung.”

There’s a soft _thud_ as the packet of pain meds slips through Moonbin’s lax fingers, the dancer having reappeared near the foot of the bed like a ninja (for someone so big and muscular and _clumsy,_ Binnie has a knack for sneaking around), and silence lingers for a few beats as he stares at Sanha in wide-eyed shock before finally managing to find his voice.

“You were with _Jungkook?_ Like, Jungkook of _BTS?_ _The_ Jeon Jungkook?”

Sanha flashes him a wide-but-sleepy smile. “That’s the one. He said hi, by the way.”

“Oh my gosh, he did not?” Bin gushes, clearly in the midst of a Major Fanboy Moment (unfortunately MFMs happen rather a lot these days, with how often them bump into sunbae idols at music shows).

Jinwoo drops his forehead down against Sanha’s shoulder with another tired sigh. So much for getting the kids to bed anytime soon. Binnie already looks far too excited as he snatches up the medication from the floor and quickly moves to join Sanha on the bed. A quick glance towards Rocky confirms Jinwoo’s fears that the usually-sensible teenager is equally as enthralled by Sanha’s tale.

“Wait, he _kicked_ you? Ohmygod, you’re so _lucky._ Why does nothing like that ever happen to me?”

 

Aigoo.

 

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said this was going to be the last chapter, but Jinwoo isn't done dealing with the stuff in his head and his heart, not just yet. He's gonna need a shoulder to cry on once the kids are in bed. Luckily he's got MJ. <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the update! Rocky is suuuuper close to Sanha, he felt so bad when he pressed too hard, but he'll make it up to the kid with cuddling in the next chapter. :D


	6. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worries fade, wounds heal, and Astro make some new lifelong friends.

.

The hotel suite is dark and peaceful, utterly quiet except for the low, soothing hum of the air-con from across the room. The conditions are about as conducive to a good night’s rest as any overworked, sleep-deprived idol could possibly hope for, but that doesn’t stop Astro’s leader from lying awake staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours on end.

A glance at the bedside alarm clock makes his tired eyes sting, both the ache of fatigue and the angrily glowing numbers reminding him that he should’ve been asleep a long while ago.

 _03:27._ _Aish, this is getting ridiculous._

Jinwoo sighs, rolling over onto his side again to peer towards the second double bed opposite his own. Despite the dim lighting, he can make out the shadowed outline of Sanha’s body beneath the bedsheets, tussled curls sticking out over the top, one long arm curled under the pillow beneath his head, a knobbly elbow poking out at a sharp angle. There’s another shorter arm thrown over the teen’s waist, Rocky having shifted closer in his sleep to cuddle up to his fellow maknae.

It makes for an adorable sight, and not for the first time JinJin regrets having tried to separate the two of them earlier. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Minhyuk’s company or dislikes bunking with him (this was their usual room allocation back at the dorms, after all), but he’d initially been worried that the teenager would try to stay awake all night in order to keep an eye on Sanha, and likely wear himself out in the process.

 _“It’s late,”_ Jinwoo had reiterated, watching as Rocky used the fluffy tie from one of the hotel’s bathrobes to deftly secure the cold gel-pack to Sanha’s swollen ankle. _“You need to sleep.”_

 _“I’ll sleep just fine next to Sanha,”_ Minhyuk replied, calmly and politely but in the determined sort of way of his that always bordered on mildly-confrontational without actually coming across as rude.

 _“Hey.”_ Moonbin shifted, leaning over from his perch on the edge of the mattress to thump Rocky in the shoulder lightly. _“Listen to Jin-hyung. He’s right, we all need to sleep. Come on, man, don’t make me carry you.”_

But Rocky remained stubborn. _“I’m not leaving Sanha. There’s plenty of room for the two of us right here.”_

_“You’ve got your own bed next door, stupid-”_

_“Yah,”_ MJ interrupted, his voice low and cautionary (a tone rarely heard from the group’s resident happy-virus), glancing up from where he’d been watching Sanha’s sleeping face, fingers combing soothingly through the maknae’s curls. _“That’s enough. If Sanha wakes up, you’ll both be sleeping out in the corridor. Bin-ah, stop calling him names. Hyukie, at least go and change out of your clothes first, don’t be gross. Dongmin-…actually no, you’re fine.”_

Eunwoo had frowned at the elder idol sleepily, the group visual lifting his head from its resting place on Jinwoo’s shoulder, the two of them sitting side-by-side against the headboard of the bed.

_“Hnn?”_

The eldest member had waved a dismissive hand. _“Never mind. Just go to bed, dummy.”_

Minhyuk hadn’t said another word to any of them, but instead slipped carefully out from underneath Sanha’s leg, setting the injured appendage back down on top of the mound of pillows and striding quickly from the room without a backwards glance. Jinwoo had blinked after him in surprise, worry stirring in his chest at the teen’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

Myungjun reached out to squeeze his hand, the man’s smile a barely-there curl of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. _“He’s still shaken up about what happened,”_ the elder had murmured. _“Let the kid sleep next to Sanha if he wants to; let’s be honest, if we make him go next door with the others he’s just gonna lie awake all night. At least this way the two of us can keep an eye on him.”_

JinJin had agreed with a nod, seeing the logic in MJ’s reasoning. But he’d still put his foot down when Bin and Eunwoo had suddenly decided they wanted to stay too.

 _“The bed’s too small for all four of you; someone might accidentally kick Sanha’s leg,”_ he told them, his tone calm but firm, steering the younger singers towards the door with a hand braced between their broad shoulders. _“The kid’s hardly in a fit state to go running off on us overnight; you can see him again in the morning,”_

 _“It already is the morning,”_ Moonbin muttered, and it was only JinJin’s extreme level of self-control that had kept him from smacking the teenager for his sass.

 _“All the more reason for you to be in bed,”_ Astro’s leader insisted pleasantly. _“Goodnight, Binnie-gah.”_

And that had been the end of it.

Despite Jinwoo’s earlier fears, Minhyuk had passed out almost as soon as they’d switched off the lights. Dressed in a loose tank top and shorts, and looking far younger than he had done before without his makeup and fashionable clothes, Rocky had crawled beneath the sheets beside Sanha, rolling onto his side to face the younger teen, eyes narrowing to sleepy slits the moment his head hit the pillow. A few minutes later and his breathing had already evened out, the dancer finally able to let go of his previous worries with Sanha sleeping safe and sound less than a foot away.

Jinwoo wishes it were that easy for him.

He’s exhausted, and genuinely so desperate to sleep that he could _cry,_ but every time his mind begins to calm and his body grows heavy with fatigue, a stray thought (a whispered _“but what if…?”_ from the darker recesses of his mind) will stir a sickly sort of tightness in his chest and shatter that brief moment of contentedness, roughly yanking him back from the brink of sleep.

 _Shut up,_ he tells that whispering voice over and over. _Shut up, shut up, shut_ up. _Sanha’s fine. He’s here, he’s safe, nothing’s going to happen to him. Just don’t_ ever _let him out of your sight again, and everything will be okay. Next time…if it happens again, he could more seriously hurt, or lured away by someone who’ll exploit him, or kidnapped or-_

JinJin’s eyes burn, and it has very little to do with how tired he is. The tightness in his chest makes it difficult to suck in a deep, calming breath, but he tries it nonetheless, the air escaping him in a shaky, stuttered exhale. Angry at himself, frustrated at his own fractious mind and volatile emotions, he knuckles the moisture from his eyes, then uses the corner of the bedsheet to scrub at his cheeks when more tears fall in their place, the painful lump in his throat growing bigger as he tries fruitlessly to keep the surge of emotions at bay, sniffling quietly in the silence of the room.

Great, now his nose is gonna be stuffy, and he _hates_ that. Trying to sleep when you can only breathe through your mouth is the worst, he’s never gonna to be able to-

“Hey, hey.” A warm body presses up against him from behind, arms snaking around his torso in a gentle backhug, Myungjun’s voice low and faintly slurred with fatigue, but full of quiet concern as he nestles in close. “Aish, JinJin-ah....”

Jinwoo brings a hand up to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the tearful hiccupping sounds that had apparently been enough to rouse MJ, guilt lancing through him at having disturbed the elder’s slumber. _Idiot._ He needs to keep the noise down; the last thing he wants to do is wake up Sanha and Minhyuk as well.

A year ago, he probably would’ve felt embarrassed at being caught in the midst of an emotional breakdown like this, but with MJ it’s different. The two of them have been through a helluva lot these past twelve months, what with the _iTeen_ trainee program and _Rising Star_ and debut and comeback and dozens of variety show appearances. Working in the industry is guaranteed to be stressful, and they’d all known that from the moment they’d been accepted as members of Astro ( _Fantagio_ had them running pretty busy schedules even pre-debut so that they knew what it would feel like to perform as a group on minimal sleep during their debut year), but Jinwoo’s gone to great lengths to make sure he never lets that stress affect him in his role as Astro’s leader. But that doesn’t mean he’s _immune_ to the pressures of his working environment; he’s only human, after all. So sometimes, when everything gets a little bit too much and he can feel his patience wearing thin, he takes himself off to a secluded spot (the utility cupboard on the second floor of the _Fatagio_ building works quite nicely) and has a good, stress-relieving cry.

It isn’t something he _ever_ does in front of the kids. He may have earned a reputation among the group as being soft and emotional, but the ‘happy crying’ they’d witnessed on selection day and after a successful debut period (and after any animated movie with a happy ending) aren’t quite on the same level as the _‘being-a-leader-is-so-emotionally-draining’_ sort of crying that happens when he reaches breaking point. The only person alive who’s bared witness to those rare, raw moments is MJ, who invariably manages to track Jinwoo down to whatever cupboard or bathroom cubicle he’s hiding in (using some weird sort of sixth sense that he can’t even begin to explain) and gives the younger man a shoulder to cry on.

He’s JinJin’s best friend for a whole host of reasons, but those quieter moments between the two of them would be more than enough to earn MJ that title, never mind all the pillow fights and play-acting and midnight girl-group karaoke sessions in the bathroom. Jinwoo’s never loved anyone quite so much as he loves Kim Myungjun, and sometimes the _intensity_ of that love scares him a little, but he never lets it deter him from cuddling up close to the older boy at every opportunity.

Besides, MJ gives _really_ awesome hugs.

“It’s been a busy week,” Myungjun murmurs, his words a warm puff of air against the side of the rapper’s neck, short arms squeezing him in a tighter hug. “Hell, it’s been a busy _month._ We’re all tired, that’s to be expected. KCon was a crazy mess of emotions, but you’ve been carrying the group through it all this time, and then Sanha goes and scares the crap out of you like that…aish. That’s enough to break anyone.”

Jinwoo shakes his head a little, trying to swallow hard enough to clear the thickness from his throat, but MJ shushes him gently and hugs him tighter still.

“You can’t be tough all the time, y’know,” the singer tells him. “Even superheroes reach their limits. Iron Man’s pretty hard to beat in a fight, but under all that armour he’s only human. You’re allowed to not be okay.”

Trust MJ to make a _Marvel_ reference as a means of comforting him. Thing is, though, it _works;_ the singer’s weird, nerdy analogies never fail to cheer him up. The tightness in his chest eases, and he uses his free hand to squeeze MJ’s forearm where it rests across his midriff, sniffling quietly as his tears begin to abate.

“Does…does that make me Tony Stark?” he croaks, his voice wrecked and raw but less wobbly than he’d anticipated.

Myungjun breathes a laugh against his neck, and JinJin feels soft lips press a feather-light kiss to the skin there. “Maybe. He’s not as cool as you, though.”

And there it is again, that sort-of-but-maybe-not flirtatious tone MJ uses when he’s trying to get Astro’s leader to smile. The singer doesn’t flirt with any of the others, at least not in the same way he does with JinJin (or so the rapper likes to tell himself, anyway).

“You’re smiling, right?” MJ whispers, tapping a finger against his sternum. “It’s dark so I can’t see shit, but I know you’re smiling. If you’re not I’ll be offended, because I just paid you one _helluva_ compliment. Iron Man is _awesome._ ”

“I’m smiling,” Jinwoo promises, knuckling away the last of his tears from his stinging, overtired eyes. “Thanks, hyung. You’re the best.”

“Mm.” Myungjun hugs him tighter for a moment, then huffs out a weary sigh. “Now stop worrying about Sanha and go to sleep. It’s late.”

JinJin’s eyelids slip closed, even as his smile stretches wider. “Actually, it’s early.”

A gentle poke to his stomach. “I will _bite_ you, Park Jinwoo.”

“Kinky bastard- ow!”

“Shhh,” MJ chides. “You’ll wake the kids.”

Jinwoo whines. “I can’t believe you actually just _bit_ me-”

“Aigoo. Stop being a big, overdramatic baby – I barely touched you.”

But soft lips press a kiss to the dissipating ache in his shoulder all the same, and Jinwoo grins in sleepy satisfaction, cuddling back against his squishy hyung as a wave of heavy fatigue washes over him. As the warm, enticing pull of slumber drags him down, his mind quietens, the paranoid whispers silenced by the security of MJ’s snug embrace.

He sleeps.

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

 

“I wish we could stay longer,” Jungkook apologises, handing Sanha’s phone back to him. “But our manager’s worried there might be too many fans at the airport if we wait ‘til later, so we’re heading out in a few minutes.”

Sanha glances down at the screen, warmth swelling in his chest at the sight of ‘ _Jungkook hyung’_ displayed on his list of contacts. He manages to drag his gaze back up to the idol himself, smiling brightly at the older singer.

“That’s okay, I understand,” he reassures. “It was nice of you to come and check up on me. And about last night, hyung…just so you know, I’m _really_ grateful for everything you did. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you haven’t found me.”

Jungkook flashes him a soft little smile, reaching up to ruffle Sanha’s curls. “Nah, you’re a smart guy, I’m sure you would’ve thought of something. I’m just glad your ankle’s looking better this morning.”

And it _was,_ too. Spending the night with a cold gel-pack fastened to the joint (Minhyuk’s doing, Sanha’s sure of it) has significantly reduced the swelling, and the skin has lost the shiny look that it had sported last night. It still hurts like _hell_ to put any weight on it, but Sanha can move his leg without it throbbing to high heavens, so that’s definitely an improvement.

Their main manager has gone to find a drugstore to buy some more gel-packs and a support bandage, and Sanha’s officially been benched from any sort of physical activity until his ankle heals (which _sucks,_ because they were supposed to go exploring LA as a group today), but at least he’s not in trouble with anyone like he’d initially feared. Rocky, Binnie and Dongmin have gone out with some other staff members to explore the city and go shopping (they’d all protested leaving him, until their manager had gently reminded them that they’d promised the fans pictures of their time in LA), but Myungjun and Jinwoo have opted to stay behind and keep in company. He wishes he could’ve spent the morning having fun with the group as a whole, eating ice cream and playing K-tourists, but on the plus side his hyungs are basically waiting on him hand and foot, and Dongmin’s even promised to buy him a present to cheer him up.

They’re all going to be _so annoyed_ when they find out _BTS_ came by to check up on him while they were gone. Especially Binnie. The poor guy’s missed them twice now.

“It doesn’t hurt as much as it did last night,” he agrees, flexing his foot carefully to prove his point, wincing at the faint twinge. “But manager-nim says I can’t dance at the fansign on Thursday, and the choreography’s gonna look weird with only five people.”

“We’ll work something out, kiddo,” Jinwoo reassures him from his perch on the arm of the couch, having paused in his conversation with Namjoon and Yoongi to shoot the maknae a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You guys can just stick him in an office chair or something,” Jimin pipes up, and mimes pushing something back and forth. “You know, the kind with wheels on. I’m sure your fans would find it fun.”

The mental image of the others dragging him around the stage in a wheely-chair is so ludicrous that Sanha actually snorts, lifting a hand quickly to cover his mouth and glancing at the dancer worriedly in case the laughter has offended him. But Jimin’s grin shows nothing but warmth and friendliness, and Sanha feels himself relax again quickly.

“Aroha would probably love it,” MJ agrees without glancing up from the intense thumb-war battle he’s holding with Taehyung, Hoseok acting as the amused referee to what must be their third match. “But he’s accident-prone enough just standing still; there’s no way in hell I’m giving the baby _wheels.”_

“I’m not that bad,” Sanha complains, a whine creeping into his tone because _why does MJ always have to embarrass him in front of sunbae idols?_

Jin laughs, draping himself over Namjoon’s back as he moves to stand behind the seated rapper, dangling his arms over the other man’s shoulders and smiling towards Sanha with the sort of fond amusement the maknae’s used to seeing in the eyes of his own bandmates.

“Your hyung’s right, Sanha-gah,” he remarks warmly. “Best not to risk injuring yourself even further when you’ve already busted one ankle.”

Sanha nods, seeing the other man’s logic even if he really doesn’t like the idea of sitting to one side and watching while the others dance. They’ve always done everything _together_ before now, it’ll be weird to miss out on a performance.

Namjoon’s phone buzzes against the leather of the armchair, and after a brief glance at the screen the leader sighs, shifting from his comfortable recline and nudging Jimin up from the dancer’s perch on his thigh.

“I’m afraid we have to go,” the rapper apologises, and holds up a hand quickly when Sanha moves as though to stand. “No, stay there kiddo, you’re fine. You should keep that foot elevated as much as you can, it’s gonna swell something awful once you’re on the plane ride home.”

“Joonie ought to know,” Hoseok pipes up cheerfully, arm slung around MJ’s shoulders in a parting side-hug. “He strains something at least once a month. I swear there’s gonna be enough fancams of Namjoon-at-the-airport-wearing-bandages to make a feature length movie in a couple more years.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he reaches out to gently tussle Sanha’s curls.

“See you around, kid. Go easy on your leader, okay? The job’s harder than it looks.”

Sanha nods, dipping forward in a quick bow, although it’s a little awkward with him sitting down and Namjoon towering multiple feet above him. He wonders if this is how MJ feels all the time; it must give the shorter singer a serious crick in the neck.

He exchanges polite bows and farewells with the rest of the group, Myungjun and Jinwoo doing the same out of the corner of his eye as they walk the rest of _BTS_ to the door, leaving Sanha alone with Jungkook for a moment.

Mustering up every last ounce of courage, Sanha quickly leans forwards to throw his arms around the other maknae’s shoulders in a brief, tight hug.

“Thank you for everything,” he murmurs shyly, feeling his cheeks already starting to heat up. “I mean it. You…you’re really awesome, hyung.” He pulls back just as quickly, clearing his throat twisting his hands together in his lap nervously, averting his gaze because he doesn’t want to see how uncomfortable he’s made the singer. “I, um, I really hope we see each other again soon.”

“I’m sure we will.” Jungkook squeezes the back of his neck, and when Sanha glances up the older boy’s smiling at him, wide and warm and genuine. “You guys are already more popular than we were when we first started – guess we’re gonna have to work harder from now on, huh?”

Sanha giggles at that, because the idea of _BTS_ needing to work harder at anything is just ridiculous. For one, their fanbase is crazy-big, but also Sanha’s never heard a _BTS_ song that he and the rest of the industry hasn’t absolutely loved.

“I don’t think we’re ready to be rivals yet,” he admits, even as he clenches a fist in the appropriate gesture. “But fighting!”

“Fighting,” Jungkook echoes, and bumps their fists together before standing to his feet. He gives Sanha’s hair one last playful tussle and turns to follow after his hyungs, waving back towards the teenager. “See you later!”

Sanha returns the wave cheerfully. “Bye!”

Once the door to the suite has closed behind the sunbae idols. Sanha flops back against the couch cushions with a gusty sigh, a dopey grin curling at his mouth as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Someone has a cruuuush,” MJ teases, leaning over him and waggling his eyebrows in a way that makes him look really stupid.

The maknae sticks his tongue out at his eldest hyung and throws a cushion in his face, smirking when Myungjun gives a startled yelp and falls from his perch on the arm of the couch, hitting the carpeted floor with a weighty _flump._

“Yah!” the singer protests. “Yoon Sanha, I am _six years_ older than you, show some respect.”

The teenager’s grin widens. “ _Almost_ six, grandfather,” he corrects, then brings his arms up quickly to shield his face when MJ is suddenly looming over him, brandishing the pillow like a weapon. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I was wrong! JinJin-hyuuung!”

“Don’t break his face,” the leader cautions, carefully lifting Sanha’s injured leg and sliding beneath it, letting the foot rest on a cushion in lap. “It’ll cost too much to fix.”

“What if I just break it a _little bit?_ ” MJ negotiates, pushing the pillow against Sanha’s arms as the maknae protects his precious features from harm. “Might even be an improvement.”

“Hyung!” Sanha protests, but he’s laughing, turning his head to the side as MJ manages to bat his arms away and squish the pillow against his face.

“It’s his turn to do the dishes next week,” Jinwoo reminds the singer casually, fingers stroking an idle pattern against the skin of Sanha’s leg. “If you kill him, it’ll fall on you to do all his chores – the rest of us aren’t going to pick up the slack.”

“Damn. You’re right.” MJ drops the pillow with a heavy sigh, fluffing up Sanha’s fringe with the tips of his fingers. “Guess you’ll live to see another day, brat.”

Sanha unapologetically blows a raspberry right in his face.

 

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

_-Three months later-_

“Binnie, c’mon,” Jinwoo sighs, shoving him in the shoulder encouragingly. “Just go over there and say hi. He doesn’t bite.”

The dancer tugs the sleeves of his sports jacket over his hands, glancing across to where Jungkook is seated with a few members of _BTS_ and _Seventeen,_ smiling and chatting and obviously at ease with the other idols in a way that Moonbin really, really isn’t.

“I can’t,” he whines, fidgeting restlessly in place. “We’ve never been introduced, it’d be weird. The rest of you guys have already met him before, I bet he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Jinwoo rolls his eyes at the younger man’s dramatics. “Namjoon-hyung says he was literally asking about you the other day, I’ve told you this already. You guys are almost the same age, you both like sports, you both like dancing, you both admire the same artists…seriously, Bin-ah, we’ve been trying to hook the two of you up for weeks now.”

“Hyung, do you want me to go and introduce you?” Sanha offers, tugging on his sleeve and peering up at Moonbin from his seat on the floor, Rocky draped over his legs and playing a flip-game with his water bottle. “I’ve already said hi, but I don’t mind doing it again.”

The dancer shakes his head with a whine. “Nooo, that’d be even weirder. I’m older than you.”

“Okay.” Sanha shrugs, unbothered by the rejection, and returns his attention to the bottle-flipping game. “Suit yourself.”

Moonbin gusts out a forlorn sigh, peering back across the stadium towards Jungkook, who’s now sat back down to watch the overhead screens as the cameras pan around the spectators in the stands, a rainbow of different coloured banners and glowing lightsticks waving enthusiastically when the fans realise they’re onscreen. The older idol looks even _better_ than usual today, decked out in the sports outfit they’ve all been giving, jogging pants and dark t-shirt and zip-up sports jacket. And his hairstyle really suits him. Everything really suits him, _ugh,_ it’s not fair.

Moonbin’s moved somewhat beyond the starstruck idol-crush he’d suffered from during the first six months of his debut year, and now he just wants to get to know Jungkook as a person because he _knows_ they’ll click. But he’s never been very good at introductions, and he’s worried he’ll say the wrong thing and blow his chances, and what if the maknae isn’t interested in becoming friends with someone younger than him…

“Binnie-gah?”

He startles, glancing up (and up, and up) to find Seungjun’s handsome face peering back at him, graced with its usual broad smile. Moonbin returns it gladly, feeling himself relax. _KNK_ have been friends with _Astro_ pretty much since debut, and he feels as comfortable around the other idols as he does around his own group, despite the age difference between them.

“Hi, hyung,” he greets cheerfully, letting the man pull him into a tight hug (Seungjun’s like a taller, clingier version of JinJin sometimes, but that’s okay). “I thought you guys were sitting over by _Snuper?_ ”

“I was,” the older singer agrees, pulling back and abruptly dropping his hand to curl long fingers around Moonbin’s wrist. “But MJ told me there was an emergency intervention happening, so I’m here to help.”

“An emergency what? Gah!” Moonbin stumbles a little as he’s suddenly pulled forwards, needing to walk at double-speed in order to keep up with the gentle giant’s long strides. “Hyung, what, where are we going-?”

“Kookie!” Seungjun calls cheerfully, and Moonbin realises with a sudden lurch of his stomach that he’s been dragged right over to the corner of the stadium where _BTS_ have been sitting. “Come and meet a friend of mine.”

Jungkook glances up quickly to smile at Seungjun, but when his gaze flickers across to Moonbin the smile falters, and he quickly stands up, stepping closer to offer the younger man his hand with a bow of greeting.

“This is Moonbin,” Seungjun introduces, his large hand a reassuring pressure between the teenager’s shoulders as Binnie shakes Jungkook’s hand returns his bow politely and tries to remember how to act normal. “He’s a member of Astro, but you already know that. He loves food and sports and video games and has a crush on G-Dragon.” He pats the younger man’s back encouragingly and turns away. “Have fun, you two!”

Moonbin knows he’s blushing – he can feel the heat in the tips of his ears – but he tries not to let his nerves show as he finally drops Jungkook’s hand (how long was he shaking it for, oh god) and tries to remember the script that’s played out in his head a thousand times, the awesome and cool conversation he’d planned to have with _BTS’_ maknae when they finally met. But what comes out of his mouth is something a little different.

“Your comeback stage at _ShowChamp_ was so good,” he blurts, the fanboy inside of him living life to the full while the intellectual part of his brain starts crying. “The choreo was lit, man. I wish our promo periods had overlapped a little, it would’ve been so cool to see it in person.”

Fuck. Fuck, he fucked up, abort, abort-

“Thanks.” Jungkook’s smile is small and shy and…cute. Really kinda cute, actually. “I, uh, I watched your dance covers on After School Club; you choreographed that Usher song, right?”

Moonbin nods, a fluttery sort of feeling in his chest. “Yeah, with Rocky. It was one of the pieces we made for our monthly evaluations when we were still trainees.”

“You made it as a trainee?” Jungkook sounds impressed, his smile growing. “Dude, that’s awesome. Hobi-hyung wouldn’t stop talking about those transitions for days, he’s pretty keen to work with Rocky on a project when our schedules clear up.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Moonbin assures him with a laugh.  “I think J-Hope was Rocky’s first dancing crush.”

Jungkook’s mile curls wider into a grin, and he curls his fingers around Binnie’s wrist, tugging the younger boy to follow as he turns to start walking towards the area where Hoseok is seated with Jin and Yoongi.

“Dude, this is perfect,” he enthuses. “Let’s go talk to hyung about a collab or something.”

Heart soaring, Moonbin lets himself be pulled along willingly, secretly hoping that this day will mark the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

 

 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This crossover has been so much fun to write! :)
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who supported me through kudos and comments and bookmarks, I really appreciate it. This won't be the last Astro/BTS crossover, but this particular story has reached its end at last. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (Also yes, Binnie and Kookie become BFFs in this 'verse. They share so many similarities, those two are honestly meant for each other. :P xxx)  
> Take care. <3 xxxxxx


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